Oak on the Hillside

On hillside of green I lay back in the grass,

Clouds going by, I watch as they pass.

They remind me of time, some fast some slow.

You get a choice in this life, that much I know.

The days that I spend beneath my favorite old oak,

Philosophical thoughts are always evoked.

My days inside are too many, too much,

I wish I could feel the grasses’ cool touch.

It’ll be there tomorrow, if tomorrow there’ll be,

You’ll find me, daydreaming, beneath my favorite old tree.

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