The Better Part

Fret not, fret not, my heart,
Because you’re fettered here
Within these four close walls,
When all the wide world calls.
You have chosen the better part.
If you but look, you’ll find
Happiness is a state of mind.
No green fields, beckoning from afar,
Are brighter than that high
Bright evening star
That shines above your garden gate….
No distand land’s cerulean skies
Can match the blue of your love’s eyes!

FARM JOURNAL & FARMER’S WIFE