~The Humble Road~
I need not want for fame or merit, precious jewels upon my neck, fine fashions weaved of lavish fabrics, palaces to call my nest; I need not want for beauty that coerces me to sell my soul, or profits of a greedy banker, hoarding all his filthy gold.
For mine shall be a humble den, a pot of tea, a window pane, a feline friend to greet me through the hours of my treasured days. A beehive’s hum shall soothe my ears as sunlight pours upon my rest; a feathered pilgrim twittering shall be the chorus I love best.
Grant me the whispers of a breeze as I sleep by a glowing hearth, a belly that is humbly filled, a heart connected to the earth, and I shall live a happy life, deficient of conformity; I’ll walk an old but gentle road, conversant with simplicity.
And when my time is withering, I’ll look towards Atlantic skies with hand on heart I’ll know I’ve lived a life that fortune cannot buy. For ours is not to plunder Earth with blindfolds fixed upon our heads; mankind was born to praise and love the path of which he meekly treads.
No riches shall ensnare my soul, for comfort lies within the land; dear Mother Earth sustains my life and swells the cup within my hand. And all I am I owe to her, the blood that runneth through my veins, dear maker of my merry soul and guardian of my precious days.
© 2016 Amelia Dashwood, All rights reserved.
Photo: Tasha Tudor, by Richard Brown