I know there're other things,
One thinks of first when trying to survive,
'Stead of, "How shall I swing?"
But still, placed in the perfect location,
Not too much shade or sun,
As as windy as you can possibly find,
Neither end too high hung,
A well-made one, both mesh or cloth will do,
Double-wide with pillow,
Lots of trees with leaves that hum in the breeze,
There's nothing you'd like more,
And drinking, too, of course,
Shelter, peace and the meaning of life.
After that, a hammock's the tour de force.