The gypsy's wine
I feel a conflict welling in my heartTrepidation and excitement locked in war
It time I think to soon this place depart
The wanderlust is calling from afar
I feel an urgency hereto unknown
My hair now grey and aged with passing time
I thought I had those youthful dreams outgrown
But in my dreams I drank the gypsy's wine
I yearn to tread those dusty roads again
In search of that good soul that once was me
I last saw him afoot 'neath summer rain
And remember what it was to be then free.
I need to pack my dreams and nothing more
For they weigh nothing at all and are few
With sky above my roof, the grass my floor
I shall begin my odyssey anew.
Of cities I now have no further need
Their boulevards aglitter and aglow
As multitudes now off each other feed
Rushing helter skelter too and fro
I shall not leave no forwarding address
No matter as no one would need me write
I bid them anyway goodbye god bless
And leave them to the reality of their plight
I wonder which road I should travel first
Heading north or south or east or maybe west
I swig the jug of wine to slake my thirst
And head off on the road to my sunset
Brendan.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 657 times
Written on 2006-01-29 at 07:10
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Mark Reynolds |
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