#cottage wlw

take me to the lakes

where all the poets went to die

i don’t belong and my beloved neither do you

those windermere peaks

look like a perfect place to cry

i’m setting off, but not without my muse

t.s. - the lakes.

how love burns through the putting in the seed

on through the watching for that early birth

when, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,

the sturdy seedling with arched body comes

shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs

— putting in the seed, robert frost.

please picture me in the trees

i hit my peak at seven

feet in the swing over the creek

i was too scared to jump in

but i, i was high in the sky

— taylor swift, seven.