Where he always went to relax, a place where nobody bothered him, an impossibility
A large garden with three such trees which put him in his place
No commotion, a nearby ocean that soothed his crusty old soul, listening to the wind worked a treat, forever winding
His mind retreating from any kind of ensuing bind
He’d taken the smooth and now he got to unwind, enjoy the rough of sorts
Splendid, heaven-sent

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