The hammock is a sacred place,
Outside the bounds of time & space.
It hangs between eternities,
Above the tide of restless seas.
When swinging in a hammock I
Am not of earth, nor of the sky.
Wrapped in my soft & webbed cocoon
I ask no man for any boon,
But independently aspire
All worldly problems to retire
Until a voice soft as the dawn
Yells at me to "go mow the lawn!"
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