A simple, down at heel farmhouse, up in the Appalachian hills.
Our little world, our little paradise, just you and I, and our dreams.
We work the garden together in the bright of day, making our way.
And at night we sit and talk on the porch steps, hold each other tight.
Preserved foods and salted meat, our stores for the winter on it’s way.
The words we write, the words we read, the things we conjure in our hearts.
Sunday at the river, we swim nude together, free and innocent, without shame.
As we drift to sleep together at night, you place my hand on your belly,
whisper about the one more thing we could ask for, the most precious gamble.
Our little garden, our little paradise, sweetness after the fall, but another will come.
The world will find us, and this innocent place will be lost, and our sweetest selves.
Our Little World, Our Little Paradise
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