In the clearing, there sits a pond
Surrounded by ancient pine
Where we always enjoyed reflecting on
The things we thought divine.
How cherished images tug my heart
And threaten to steal me away
So with them then I would surely start
A new life in a much simpler way.
What do I care for meaning,
Under the shade of a tree?
Except for the lyrics the song-birds are singing...
They are the only thing that occupies me.
One Small Token Nemo