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I would mind if it were a puddle of water
It's a place that I don't feel like a cannon fodder
I watch the waves lap the shore
This place gives me peace from its core
Misty mountains awake over yonder
I look at my haven, and I begin to ponder
Why can't others feel this surreal
But their lives are more shaky than a ships keel
I hear the cry of a blue heron
Without this place, my life would be baron
Here I can escape myself
Put the old me on a dusty shelf
I start to shuffle back to the wood
If I could start anew, I certainly should
But I can't leave my Forrest chums
From deer to fish, Daisies to mums
So that's why Im here where nature does subside
A new me is being born, the city me died
I love my private shore more than anything
I stand on the sand and begin to sing
Then my alarm clock begins to ring
My entry for the contest o' poetry.
More fractals soon.
