I discovered the first couple of lines I'd scribbled in an old notebook. Not all journeys start by physical travel.

Anglo-American Journey



Grew up down the road from the Brontes.
Dear Emily Charlotte and Anne
With their brother Branwell, all the tales they could tell
Made me quite a bit more than I am.
And along came Fennimore Copper
And Louis L’Amour and Zane Grey
They took me up the trail from the place whence I hail
And rode me down red Texas clay.
So I waltzed with young Tess down in Cornwall.
Followed Ivanhoe right to the end
But I do-si-doh’d well with an outlaw named Belle
And was proud to call Hopalong friend.

I’ve fished from a bridge out in Stamford,
Where Harold caused Tostig to fall.
And I’ve stood by the tide where Robin Hood died
And clambered on Hadrian ’s Wall.
While I dreamed of a mission in Texas
And a passage that leads North and West
Maryland’s shores opened many new doors
As I sailed on the Chesapeake’s crest.
Toasted London in both Alameda
And Skagway both towns that he knew.
And stood by the rock
Of a General named Brock
And noticed McDonnell’s name too.

A wonderful find was Drake’s Golden Hind
In full sail out on old ‘Frisco Bay.
And Old Country names
I can find on the James
With some of them living today.
End what you start is advice from the heart
But I’m here to deny that my friend.
For Old World and New
I discover anew
Old sameness just round the bend.