There’s a cabin on a hillside ridge
past the old weathered wooden bridge
The view of a green valley below
With wildflowers being my show
A creek nearby with clear water
Time flies fast, and it doesn’t matter
Planting seeds for a feast to reap
The smell of rich dirt your nostrils keep
Each day holds something new
The sound of birds amidst the sky of blue
Listening to small voices of children at play
Getting along, not demanding their way
Nothing to run from, no need to hideaway
Anxiety is gone. Never to have an angry say
Pull up a beautiful thought in your mind
It will help Mold you to be kind
