Sculling on waves, the open sea,
currach and occupant one,
rise and fall from crest to swale,
He found himself far from home -
He found himself far from home
Gazing at heights, mortar and brick,
midday shadows on streets of stone,
thousands on thousands that hurry by,
He found himself far from home -
He found himself far from home
Settling on sheets of cotton brushed,
a spool pattern quilt is thrown,
simple days longed and hoping the best,
He found himself far from home -
He found himself far from home
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"may your home and life be blessed with all favors that make you happiest." ~Irish Proverb
I have had a house guest for a day or two, he has something of a modern vagabond lifestyle.
This poem and the proverb is for my good friend "Harry".
4 comments:
Wow. Beautiful post! I love the drawing.
this leaves me too, feeling kinda vagabondy...
i LOVE your new blog pic!
hiya! please come and collect something over here... http://gsp-shadow.blogspot.com/2008/12/honest-scrap.html
I like the repeating line at the end of the stanzas, gives it a somewhat lonesome tone rather than a happy wanderer feel.
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