There’s an image of peaceful solitaire
Thinking back on the countryside air
The fields and my childhood lair
I remember a great fig tree — its still there
Standing many a feet up in the air
In a land no owner known nor heir
Everyone admits they were born and found it there
The vast expanse of land around it bare
And grass of gold, green and fair.
scientists claim the centre of the world I know not where
But I have always thought it to be there
Under that old large dark green stare
Cut it down and the world deflates all its air
Like an unknotted balloon at a county fair
Chainsaw-wielding fiends don’t dare!