In the city of Hoorn,
On a cobblestone street,
We were taken as guests
So some locals we'd meet.
It was charming, the house,
And the ceilings did soar;
There were children and cats
But much more was in store.
For the hostess' dad
Brought us each out, with pride,
Quite a big slab of pie
With some whipped cream beside.
From the very first bite,
I was over the moon.
I'll not taste pie that wonderful
Anytime soon.
There were flowery mugs
Filled with coffee or tea,
So we sipped and we savored -
How lucky for me!
To be welcomed and fed
Homemade baking and cream
And converse like we knew them -
It felt like a dream.
When you step off the path
Where the tourist traps lie,
You'll find friendship and maybe
A great piece of pie!
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
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