Despite the madness that prevails
Across the battlefields and polls,
She packs her travel bag and sails
To greener lands and kinder souls.

And there, on the other side
Of time that runs and even flies,
She can and does, at long last, hide
From ruthless words and shameless lies.

She can relax and simply be
Herself and, for a moment, choose
To watch a humming bumblebee
Instead of screaming TV news.

And walk along an empty coast,
And see the summer evening fall,
And meet a bird or two at most,
And have no heavy thoughts at all.

The sunset pours its gentle glow
On every stone and every herb.
And even waves run nice and slow,
As if not wanting to disturb.