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I will build my house in the corner field, And the woodline will be my border. To my axe and hammer the trees will yield As I put logs and planks in order. I will build my chimney with the stones That I dig up from the earth. I will stack them high with grunts and groans, And lay them side by side for my hearth. I will till the ground and plant the seeds That are tomatoes, beans and corn. I will fish from the pond where smallmouth feed And pick fresh berries in the morn. I will count the stars in the summer sky And store wood for future burning. I will watch in wonder as deer stroll by, And take heed of the leaves’ soft turning. I will gather in the autumn grains That will see me through ‘til spring. I will huddle behind my frosted panes And wait for robins again to sing. Each night I’ll pray before taking rest And give thanks for all of my labor, For my reward is my request – To have God as my closest neighbor.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

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