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.