no place, i would rather be.
sitting on golden sand, by sea.
once single, then dyad, now triad.
growing in love our little family.

and the sun shines down glad,
and we chase away, lingering sad
and we smile, the summer day long.
and i watch play, boy and proud dad

but in other climes, a sad song,
plays in a room where life is not long
and there is much pain
and somehow it is so, very wrong,

that some live and gain
and some who, seeded by bad grain,
are short changed, days of life
and  deseperate death reigns.


but in both places, love conquers strife
and in both places love is beautifuly rife.
love, lives hopeful and large, everywhere
because whether  long or short, we all live under damocle'an knife.....