Neither encumbered with
material trappings, nor money,
(neither of which I miss)
mine existence approxi-
moxy mates (to me),
the state of psychic,
intrinsic, and bucolic bliss
though far removed
from civilization distant
as thee (myopic) eye can see,
a benevolent, redolent,
and verdant pristine premise
bespoken, expressed, and invoked
to cosmic consciousness, especially
threats (to life and limb
courtesy Homo sapiens),
isolated wilderness
absent villagers tsuris,
this monk thank
fully doth dismiss
homestead of unspoiled habitats
though contact with eldest,
and youngest sis
plus deux darling daughters,
the only people, whose absence
accompanies me to wince
with gentle hug, and air kiss
communing with nature
faintly conjures Swiss
Family Robinson
similarities, though this
subarctic Siberian wilderness
connotes more drastic
(ideal to me) solitude perfect
remote abode tubby remiss,
cuz this loner loathes
to impress others,
who don, and
trumpet an (all self)
important air of priss
see ness, no thank dear reader,
I revel as a misanthrope
glad to isolate myself
breathe deep sigh relief asper,
not being party to hiss
see fit, nor participate in
superficial rituals like...Christmas.