sitting in the conservatory sipping homemade wine
counting all the trees, leafy, broad and pine.
listening to birds and soaking up the sun
finger tracing flowers, each one by one.
my thoughts are blank, words are missing
and in the field the goats are pissing.
i look to the west, can almost see the bay
and rub the white sea shell i have stolen away.
the slugs suck the life out of every little herb
and eat the veggies and the petunias you planted as a surprise and climb into your boots and pillows and made the goats sick and are disgusting vile creatures made only to ruin everything beautiful...
everywhere is green, the flowers are golden
and here all alone i wish i could hold him (no. it just rhymes.)
laying and dazing and wishing for rain
here where it's quiet i feel no pain. in my lungs or my brain.
walking the reeds my soul is a-float
until i get head butted by the a-hole billy goat.
'time to eat oats!!' baa hannah and mo
this is the life. fo-sho. fo-sho.
today: walk in the woods. finish the bramble fence. pulling weeds. maybe more herbs in the conservatory. wine. quiche. dutch television (tonight is dutch room raiders on european mtv. oh yes.) yoga. russian violinist - so sad. AAANND....goat shit. always with the poopies they are.
pictures soon. hopefully.
oh yeah, names: mietre, annie, floppy, jon (butt head), toe, mo, hannah and klinche (call her black betty), snow, hara, and my very good friend coshe.
love you all, each and every one. except that one dude (joke!) <3 to all.
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