New Digs

Whether hammock ‘neath the swaying palms,

seaside shack or lean-to.

I’m packing my kit and moving on,

to find somewhere I mean to.

—-

I’d pick an old hut deep in the wood,

where most would fear to tread.

Or a cave cut long or treehouse high,

somewhere to lay my head.

—-

Whether cabin in the northern pines

or igloo in the snow.

If the bed is soft and rent is cheap,

then I will surely go.

—-

From tropical heat to the frozen north,

or dunes of the Sahara.

I’ll search for digs most anywhere, even

Kenya’s Masai Mara.

—-

I’ll weed the garden and milk the cow,

I’ll do most any chore.

Work hard ’till I’m starved of love and food,

to help settle my score.

 —-

(Yes I am looking for a new place to stay and thought I would write a poem about it)

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