I dream of a place I can call my own,
Where I, my thoughts and talents may hone.
Where no sharp tongues are near;
Nay, only those I hold dear.
Solitude, quietness and peace,
But not love please,
For with love all these cease.
T'will be a place of greenest hue,
With joy aplenty and cares but few,
Where birds and beast together feed,
Where the weak the strong will lead.
And now ready am I to go there,
On wings of poesy to that land so fair.
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