Beneath My Tree

Beneath My Tree

When I was young and full of fun.
life was simple and free.
I held no fear when day was done
as I lay beneath my tree.

Time would have to wait her turn,
I was happy as could be.
I felt a young man's fires burn
in the very heart of me.

I could not say where I'd be led
or where the trip would end.
When I would rest my weary head
or what the day would send.

There comes a time to see the light,
the essence of sanity;
and I'll not fear the coming night
as I lay beneath my tree.

© Copyright 2005 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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