It is funny to me now as
I sit alone in frustration
Over things of which
I have no control
I can’t sing out
Honey, grab your stuff and
To the coast we’ll go
Where my garden awaits me
And the songbirds sing
The gentle wind off
The majestic ocean and
The sun and the blue sky
Will shake me from this funk
Grab your stuff dear
We will disappear
It is our time of year to
Put aside this malarkey
Get down to real issues
Where no one will interfere
The place where we feel
That God is near and
Everything, no matter what
Will be fine beyond
Anything we can have here
Away we will go until the fall
I can almost hear the call
Of the church bell there
Won’t it be grand to be back
And leave all this behind
At least for a while
Reality gets in the way
We have been so lucky dear
But, I have to state clearly
I have not such a place to
Run off to so when I feel that way
I just stay here
Where God is always near
Stanski
November 7, 2020 ^
Steve Haarman 