Happiness

My lot is a strangely happy one,
Though far from the busy mart;
I live on my homestead all alone,
With ever a song in my heart.

And if perchance I tire of home
Away and away I go—
To gypsy by a stony brook,
Or camp-fire in the snow.

When wily wind blows fierce and strong,
Or cloud and mist allure,
I don my very oldest togs.
A picnic then for sure.

My thoughts are as free as the mountain air,
And never a care have I;
Where I live alone in a little hut
And not even a road goes by.

--Ester Burnell

Estes Park Area Historical Museum. (02 May 2001).
Four Women Homesteaders in the Rockies [Online].
Available: www.estesnet.com/Museum/exhibit.html [16 Aug. 2000].