Too far to walk
With such indigestion
Too far from home
With this pressing need
With such indigestion
Too far from home
With this pressing need
Yet the bush
Is such a perfect place
With stone flags
Beneath my feet
The wind whistles
Over my shoulder
Then just as quickly
It settles to a breeze
A warm Zephyr
With the occasional urge
Of a more forceful wind
To keep me wondering
And of course I have
Come here to wonder
At the roll of the wolds
With the certainty of trees
Much as if travelling
On the Trans-Siberian railway
Up and over, or through the Ural Mountains
Then all along the self-levelling Steppes
