HILL RISE HOUSE

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THE HOUSE ON THE HILL



Lots of rain and frost with snow and fog to come
There's a cold front from the Atlantic
Michael Fish is having fun
Forecasting weather terrible to drive you round the bend
And a gloomy predictive promise that winter will never end.


So as wind howls round the trees we dream of warmth, heat and haze
We close our eyes and fancy of an island in the sun
Of lapping seas and palm trees, and swimming pools and fun.
The island's name is Nevis, - its where Nelson wed his spouse
And in gardens of bougainvillea there's a place called Hill Rise House.


Half way up a mountain overlooking the Carib Sea
It's a perfect house, a perfect home, a glorious place to be.
But dreams are only make believe,
They draw quickly to a close,
The idyllic world they show us soon fades and dims and goes.


Once again you waken up - for reality prepare
With only a wonderful memory - did it happen, was it real, was I there?
But as you make your return
To the bite of winter's chill
This time the dream was true, we were in the house on the hill.


We swam in the warm sea, lay under the sun for hours
Soaked up the perfumed air from a thousand tropical flowers
Yes, we really came to Nevis, paradise afar
And the dream came true for all of us
Thanks to Patrick and Dietmar.


R.N. March 1995

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