Perfect Place

Out there, in the great wide world.

There is a perfect place.

Or maybe more than one.

Where all the poets went to die.

A place where the sunlight is golden.

Where the winds are a gentle kiss.

Wasps never buzz by.

Bees are fat and slow as they fly.

Maybe a place where I,

Along with you,

Can finally find the time that Bilbo sought.

A place to rest and finish my book.

Without the pain that life has wrought.

Take me to that place,

The one way out there,

Where the mountains are grown tall from the tiniest stones.

Take me to the lakeshore,

Where all the poets went to die,

Where the winds rustle the golden leaves on their trees.

Take me to the coast,

To watch the waves as they crash,

To hear the gulls weep over the setting of the sun.

Out there,

In the Great Wide Word,

There is a perfect place.

Or maybe more than one.

A place where all the poets went to die.

A place where the night is cool,

While the day is warm.

A place where the wind is gentle as a forgotten kiss.

A place where the sky is clear,

While the clouds linger just out of sight.

Take me to that place,

The one way out there.

Where all the poets went to die.

Where we all belong under the perfect sky.

Out there, in the great wide world.

Take me to that perfect place.

Where my weary head can finally lie.

In the place where the poets went to die.