I know a place where the green ivy grows longer,
no news of the affairs of men
only the occasional sound of fisherman’s whistle.
What is this room?
The sun shines and I boil my tea;
When the moon comes I read stories.
I have no news to report.
Other than to know that eventually I’ll stop chasing.
I’d love to go there, too. Sometimes you just need rest and peace.
remember when you used to post to your blog? I miss those days.
Austin retirefly
Recommends your blog today
Thank you for writing