A Traveller's Song of the Road
There is a story
A tale of myth and wonder
For every stone, an upturned leaf
For every mile, every town
A memory formed
For every journey.
The sky its bluest ever
Cotton clouds gliding by
Soothing meadows, tall hills,
Emerald ponds and dusty lanes
Stripped walls and shy villages
Each a cover for another journey
An prelude for life's symphony.
Travel I must
The road tempts too much
Many a legacy and myths invite
To read their tales
If not in miles, in mind at least.
Spirit is too free
The chain of rules too weak
For the destination, I care not
The journey beckons urgent and fast
And those stories I shall tell.