My Arrival in the Bay Area in my $100 1957 DeSoto, September, 1966

Wanderlust

I guess it was always in me,

to go beyond what I could see.

To experience what could be,

if I just went a little further.

Got me into trouble sometimes,

but I never, ever got lost.

Knew where and how far I'd gone,

so returning never cost.

But sometimes that exploration,

went a step way too far,

when exploring a girlfriend's body,

she didn't think it was par.

While secretly she loved it,

her moral compass knew,

if she spent more time with me,

she might give in to it, too.

She didn't know that I was careful,

never to go where it cost.

Though she feared we would go there,

perhaps, why she left and I lost.

Seeking knowledge did not excite me,

but I still learned all I could,

but mostly it was for my own good,

to eventually have a livelihood.

A way to pay for a good wife,

for children and houses without strife.

The kind that reckless exploration brings,

a life of misery, poverty and other things.

But the roads were open to me,

with a cheap car and cheap gas.

With travel built into my blood,

no place was out of my grasp.

I drove boldly into other countries,

wherever the roads would take me,

I picked up traveling companions,

found them, sometimes, a bit shaky.

But I did not fear what they may fear,

or where the roads could take me.

I was rich by travel knowledge alone,

knowledge that would never forsake me.

When I was able to pay for flight,

I traveled around this old world.

Seeking the poorer countries out,

where survival was eked out bold.

Learning from friendly and curious souls,

why they would admire me for my birth.

When I was really nothing very special,

just of the luckiest ones born on this green earth.

Now my time of travel is nearly at an end,

my mind travels in wanderlust of where I've been.

I do not regret traveling no more,

just writing it down thrills like before.

Copyright 2023 © Ronald W. Hull

12/21/23

You can read and print this poem at my website here.