Ode to Paradise

I love the smell of the water though to most it's unappealing,

I love the taste of the coffee even though the cups are peeling.

There could be a raccoon in the outhouse, I couldn't care,

I traverse the ravine though there's a bear.

The garage, stuffed full of junk- I see treasure,

Smoke rising from the burner fills me with pleasure.

The feel of dirt under my feet, 64 acres of trees,

The deer blind glimmers in the summer heat, I can't approach for there's bees.

Forget the gun, I only hunt morels,

The woods raise my pride and nourish my morals.

It's pouring rain, but I won't come in;

Forget paradise, this is my cabin.