Ounce by Ounce

Old looming trees - sun and sky,
A dog, good friends, my girl-child and I

I'll sit, talk, play, and strum my guitar,
campfire entranced, clothes covered in char

I'll think - oh I'm lonely for a woodsy man,
then I'll counter - no I'm happy - I really am

Well it could be true that I may be a bit desolate,
but I'm open and willing - the rest's up to fate

When the sticks fall down what really counts
Is savouring the moments, ounce by ounce

I count these times as silver and gold
Loved ones beside me, these treasures I behold

SM June 2004