There is a place deep in the woods
To everyone else unknown.
My own secluded hideaway;
A home away from home.

It’s there I feel the most myself,
No part of me to hide.
It’s there I feel the presence of God,
He’s right there by my side.

The trees have heard my deepest thought
And birds have sung my song.
Under the golden rays of sun
Is right where I belong.

It’s moments when I’m by myself
That I feel less alone.
There, in the silence of the woods
Is where I’ve truly grown.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Let’s go way back
To a simpler time.
To our very first chapter:
The summer we were nine.

You were too cool,
And I was too shy.
You didn’t really like me,
Sometimes you made me cry.

It didn’t take long
To outgrow that phase.
We developed a bond
In what seemed like two days.

From hiking adventures
To countless sleepovers,
We conquered the world
And saved snapping turtles.

When times became tough,
You knew just what to say.
My pain was your pain,
You made things okay.

You knew my whole heart;
All the grief, all the joys.
We shared endless phone calls
and complained about boys.

Fast forward to now:
We’re on year twenty-two.
Some things may have changed
But our friendship stayed true.

We’re secure on our own
But we’re stronger together.
I thank God for you,
You’re my best friend forever.

There is no brother worse than you,
Or any brother better.
I guess you’re turning out alright,
Sometimes your jokes are clever.

You wake up when I come from work,
Pretend you’re doing homeschool.
Your sneakers were two hundred bucks,
They barely even look cool.

If you’re not in the car in five,
Oh well, too bad, you’re walking.
Sometimes you tell me to shut up
When I’m not even talking.

Your taste in music is the worst,
But not worse than your omelettes.
Last time I checked under your bed,
I found your stash of chocolates.

You never know how to react
When someone compliments you.
“Timmy, thanks for making brownies”
“Shut up, before I slap you.”

You read like three survival books
And fixed up an old longboard.
Sometimes I hate driving with you
Because you steal the aux chord.

Overall, you’re pretty decent.
Your hygiene could use some work.
Just slap yourself once in a while
So you don’t become a ****.

I woke up early morning
With one thought in my head.
“I cannot wait until tonight
When I am back in bed.”

I’m on my second coffee
And still I’m not awake.
I pour a third and fourth cup;
My hands are starting to shake.

Don’t attempt to speak to me
Before the clock strikes ten.
It’s hard for me to form a sentence-
Or even a word - till then.

And if you know what’s good for you
Don’t ask me “where’s that smile?”
I will not hesitate to slap you;
I’m feeling extra vile.

Luckily, this cloud will pass,
It’s just a friendly warning.
So you will know what to expect
From me tomorrow morning.

When I was young and still quite dumb,
I tried out something just for fun.
I didn’t know if it would work,
My sister said I was berserk.

Feeling a little bit too clever,
I tied a few bed sheets together.
Then tied the sheet rope to the bed
“Please hold my weight”, I silently begged.

I opened the window, dropped the rope,
And for the best I only hoped.
With both my arms around the twine,
I started inching down the line.

Then, suspended in mid air,
I heard the rope begin to tear,
And with a rather dreadful sound,
From two floors up I plummeted down.

Around mid fall I heard a crack,
I landed, grunting, on my back.
My head felt dizzy, my finger ached;
The whole length of my back was scraped.

I walked home limping in a shame.
For there was no one else to blame.
Oh, and one thing worse than my broken finger?
My entire family watching from the window.