A sparkling stream,
Twists through the trees.
This peaceful place,
Is home for me.
Away from the rush,
Far from the stress.
My sanctuary,
The wilderness.
The leaves above,
The dirt below.
This place is home,
That much I know.
With my sketchpad,
Upon my knee.
I am alone,
But not lonely.
The winding path,
And mossy stones.
The town's not for me,
I'm heading home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem