Come and sit a spell with me.
Under the trees and along the canal.
The leaves are a-changing and the air is brisk.
And while we sit, perhaps the world will pass us by.
Distracted and absent are they.
It is us that see the beauty of the morn.
Hearing the distant thunder of the nearby waterfall
and the rustle of leaves caressed by a gentle breeze.
Or perhaps the chatter of birds starting their day.
Time has stopped while we sit here for a spell.