The Inn on the Isle

There was this inn,
Somewhere by the isle of rocks,
Hidden by mist on a stony top,
It was a land I once visited

And I must tell you,

I left in deep shock.
There was a playful teasing
And the tea was still warm to the brim
The inner construct was so pleasing
The bushes could though, use a trim.

And while no one pleaded,

The innkeeper seemed so warm

Those little eyes I still remember

They were as joyous as young dawn.

There was no face to remember

But the men were so kind

That one old lady by the reception

Her strength was her beautiful smile.

The inn put me in wonders

And I could not through this idea swim,

Where had I come at this hour?

This place seems like an angelic shower.

How can a place have happiness in abounds

With no scars in the past be found?

And hence, this isle with its broken logs

Shall forever stay in my deepest bogs