THE HOME SONG OF THE EARTH WALKER

Let us go then you and I,
Until the sands do meet the eye,
Until music fill the desert sky,
And widows smile on the sly.
Let us hear the marching tune,
That stirs the dust upon the dunes,
And air we breathe is with gold hewn,
Smelling of the carcass of ancient runes.
Lets paint the world with a riders colours,
And grace the time with lores of tellers,
Inquiring the lives of wine dwellers,
Who fell their feet upon stony cellars.
Let us go in fresh pursuit,
Of God's grace and fortitude,
Of lively lyres and tunes of flutes,
Of rich cuisines; the mouthfull foods.
Let us reach the world's end,
Where the mountain water bends,
And to heavens the fallers send,
When their ways are all amend.
Yet let us return to homely abode,
To where at end every traveller rode,
To lay down the needed but heaving load,
And rest each limb, sinew, muscle and node.