O harried pale
Wanderer
Come hither
Repose a while;
You desperately seek
Even the wildest rose
Of another’s pasture, why?
you hunt for succor
in a strangers home, why?
o wandering soul
o nomad freind of mine
rest..
come sit next to me
and rest those wandering
feet of thine...
lets share this bread
lets share this wine
let me tell you
how this bliss
became mine
bliss is not any man’s friend
bliss is not any man’s mistress
bliss is aloof
bliss, even though a temptress,
will not come a begging
my harried nomadic friend
and she will not respect
the wanderers feet or his intent.
bliss, my wandering nomadic
freind is to be found in the
rhythmic gentle breath
of your sweet maidens rest
flowing up the corners
of her warm oven baked bread
tingling in the echoes
of her blushing merriment.
turn head and heart
homewards o friend
you have a pretty garden,
pretty shrubs of your own
to tend.
seek no longer
the fulfillment
of lands unknown
turn head and heart,
take wandering feet
home.
inspired by the pain in a freinds life...pain born of confusion and misdirection.
wardha jawdat
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wanderer-8/
