Travel here, go there
Busy days turn to weeks,
Months turn to years…
but when nights leave me sadly blue,
Remembering the burning
need to be with you,
I Yearn for the day of my return
When passions run deep,
where loves embers burn,
causing me to think
Of times lost,
times to gain
Time that remains,
dreaming of;
No more travel here, travel there
just spending the rest of my life with you.
Dan I don't travel but I often hear these words from my husband, his job takes him away quiet a bit from home and I think these thoughts often. Thank you,
Your friend Rose
Me thinks the traveller's journey has come to an end. A beautiful romantic interlude, one that the reader is glad to have experienced in verse: well done!
The lament and yearning of the wayfarer, right on up to modern times. You pen the dilemma well in this enjoyable poem. I hear you, but must admit that I've stop traveling and taken up unprofitable writing! - Bill
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Your friend Rose
Busy days turn to weeks,
Months turn to years…
As one who traveled for a living for 30 years, I know exactly what you mean. Now, for me, there's no place like home.
Be safe,
Karen
Eileen
Me thinks the traveller's journey has come to an end. A beautiful romantic interlude, one that the reader is glad to have experienced in verse: well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.