Travel Spa

I start my travel ramblings with this poem of travellers.....

I wish the railroads were torn out,
The planes all nailed to the ground,
The ships all sunk among the coral.
I am so very weary of travellers tale,
With tales of nothingness but life.

when i sit dine with travellers,
my soup seem cold, my drinks seems hot,
I'm forced to leave my meal untasted,
And sit back smiling to make myself look interested,
While i dwell into the realms of a trevellers mind.

I'd rather take my chance of life and reason,
If in a den of roaring lions i am hurled
Than for a single year, for one single hour,
then to dwell with folks who'd traveled.

So patronizing, so oppressive are they,
With pity for those they meet in thier shallow path,
So mighty is their knowledge, so aggressive thier thoughts,
I wish they had not ceased to roam.

They loathe the new, they quite detest the present;
They revel where they come from;
They are increasing at a rate alarming,
Go where I will, the traveled man is there.
And now I think that rustic whole charm is a miss

Its About Meee

My Friend,
I stand in Judgment now,
And feel that you're to blame somehow.
And never did you point the way.
You knew the truth and glory,
But never did you tell the story.
My knowledge then was very dim;

You could have led me.
Though we live together on earth,
you never told me of second birth,
and now I stand this day condemned,
Because you failed to mention.

You taught me many things, that's true,
I called you "friend" and trusted you,
But I learn now that it's too late,
You could have kept me from this fate.
We walked by day and talked by night,
And yet you showed me not the Light.

You let me live, and love, and left me to die,
You knew I'd never live on high.
Yes, I called you a "friend" in life,
And trusted you through joy and strife.
And yet on coming to the end,
I cannot, now, call you "My Friend." but "O Brother"

touch and be touched

--patrick