In a quaint little village

not far from here

fiddlers' romance diners

at restaurant tables on terraces

peppered with terracotta pots

overflowing parsley and thyme

and down a country lane lined

with white stone walls brimming

with alyssum rosemary and sage

leading to a curiosity shop where

a stradivarius violin with no bow

takes centre stage in the window

and there's irony in the tinkling

of bells as a goat-herd steers his

love of tender years towards a

meadow where lambs gambolled

and now being served at tables

in restaurant terraces peppered

and flavoured with home grown

seasonings and

fiddlers romance the diners.