My House By The Lake

I have a small house by the lake And a chair to sit under the tree I like to read books sipping tea I feel out of world and damn free I watch birds come to the lake Play in its clean and pure water White clouds float across its body I watch them and feel much better There is no sound except soft Whistling of the wind flowing From edge of the hills standing Near the lake and in ray glowing I like to be left alone in this land Of hills and lakes and white snow And I will die with a book in my Hand and that no one should know