Rainy Sunday afternoon Who wants to hear what I have to say? I’ve got a story in the works A silly fantasy Of people oh so noble Good and kind. They live in a wonderland Of mountains and meadows And prairie that goes on and on Horses running wild Birds soaring high. Little villages Perched in the crags Simple people Living simple lives. Their Minder a Man Unselfish and true His own cares Put aside. His land he loves He keeps it pure, No careless waste Nothing uselessly Put aside. The lowest life-form In this land Is just as precious As the high. Where is this land I sigh?