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Old Hermit

High up near the top of the mountain he  stood
surveying all he could see for miles and miles
He watched the hawks wheeling round and round
then folding their wings they plummeted down
striking their prey in full flight taking them to eat
behind him was a cave where he lived and slept 
very comfortably on a bed of bracken and hay
his chair was a lump of stone that naturally
was shaped and the seat was cut into it.

He had lived here a long time making it
just right and with a handy spring 
all the water he could wish for.
He cooked on an open fire at the front
so all smells and smoke were blown away
there was even a hole narrow and deep
that took care of all his bodily needs.
Still most days he stood looking out
over the land  which was his land.

He watched over all. the various animals
the different birds he could hear a wood pecker
busily drilling away making a new nest
and signed with pleasure at the simple things 
which made this place so special to him.
He had been married a few times and had
many children not all in wedlock he'd been 
a bit of a lad ln his time enjoying it all.
Now as he approached his end he had little
regret it was a life well spend and he would
do it the same taking each day as it came

For those that could remember his name
it was    FREEDOM

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 3/29/2025 10:18:00 PM
I'm not as hearty as him, but I loved camping. Freedom is wonderful. Your poem smells of fresh pine.
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Shadow Hamilton
Date: 3/30/2025 7:27:00 AM
Glad you like it Hilda enjoy the pine smell hugs Shadow

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry