6 August 2012
Bench of wood, Earth moist, The spot is foist, Stay if I could,
The sun is setting, They sky is red, The grass is a bed, Soft it's getting,
There is one patch, My private place, It's only ever my space, Not yours to snatch,
I come her when sad, Even when happy, Or even feeling snappy, Or when its gotten bad,
It's mine, but sure, I could share, If your ever there, It can be yours.
My Patch • Opuss № I