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Poem

Looked out in the morning,
     saw the hurricane's approach;
Coming from the islands,
     travelling fast down the coast.
Time to hit the highway,
     got my seat upon the coach,
Going to the mountains
     where the waters won't encroach.

The cabins been well kept,
     the fire place is in flame;
The larder's always full
     with food, simple and plain.
We've heard on the news
     there will be a massive storm,
Yet, upon this mountain,
     we are safe and dry and warm.

There's no TV up here
     nor no flash electric light;
The generator works
     but it's only run at night.
The water from the stream
     is quite cold and oh so pure
And there's trout a' plenty
     that will take quick to your lure.

Sunrises are gorgeous,
     the sunsets are held in awe;
Distant snow-capped mountains
     are the best you ever saw.
The mountain pass is lit
     by the rising of the moon,
Soon the night-time hunters
    will be passing by us soon.

Thinking of the city
     and the multitudes within,
Seems they end up crazy
     but I guess you can't blame them.
Once thought of returning,
     even got my bags to pack,
Then suddenly I knew
     this ol' man ain't going back!

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