There is a niche (in progress)

Somewhere
There is a niche
For men with beards
Bright blue eyes
And long brown hair

Where one could sit
Upon the shore
And never miss a sunset
Never miss a chance to fish
Never leave and never stay
For the shore stretches eternally each way.
Enough to wander
But too vast to know
With space to explore
A perfect place to call home.

Somewhere
There is a niche
For young men
Who are old like the moon
With souls like the trees.

Where a soft breeze blows
Music through the grass
Where silence is sweet
And the days are long.
A tidy little island of calm
In a vast cosmos of chaos
Which one could claim as their own.
A place for the heavy heart
The sleepless night
And weary hands.
To be set aside in lieu
Of the smell of sage and sweet grass
Of sunlight on your skin
And the gentle kiss of morning’s dew.

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