As I wander far
Along the foreign strand
I feel the tug of home
Pulling on my hand,
I feel the loneliness
That I have made for me
When ever I am here
On the edge of the sea.
I thought upon my love
So far from home am I
She waits beside the fire
Reflection in her eye.
She wonders why she did
Fall in love with such as he
Who has the need to leave
And walk along the sea.
The wind, it has a chill
That moves through to the bone
The cold that can not be
Assuaged when all alone
Too far from home and love
More than should ever be
A vagabond I know
Somehow must cross the sea
Wow, I really like this one, Terry!
Marty
It's good to stretch once in a while, Terry. Nice effort here.
Les
I feel the loneliness
That I have made for me
Revealing words. Nicely written Terry and enjoyable, even though there are no lariats, branding irons, broncos, or camp fires anywhere to be found.
Joe
there's always a fire in terry's work, and a song running in the background.
merc,
i really like the way you present the tug of home and the yearn to wander. written from the heart, this poem rings true.
very sad. very nice, too. H.
like the sentiment...feel the writer is struggling with writing it, thus the awkward phrasing.
Terry, generally stuck to cowboy poetry, which is why I enjoyed this other aspect of his personality.
Les