The Life of a Hermit

Right here I sit, amongst all my friends,
And we all have our roads with their own little bends,
But mine shall begin where the rest of yours ends. . .
I want the life of a hermit.

If in ten years my bright face you would see,
Come to the place where the soul can run free;
Sit on my stoop, and I'll fix you some tea.
Mine is the life of a hermit.

Far up the mountain, with trees on all sides,
There in a meadow my small cottage hides;
Bright is the sunshine, and warmth here abides,
Here in the life of a hermit. ...continue reading →