Just around the bend,
wagon wheels will be on the mend
Oiled gears will ready themselves
Hay will be stacked in neatly rolled bales
Golden strands of straw so sweet,
cotton candy will stick to our teeth
Corn will be popping, within warm air
the vibrant smell of carnival fare
Crisp winds will wrap us in gusts of love,
enlivening our senses to the sky above
Its briskness will awaken the child in us all,
evoking within us the excitement of Fall
British Rail strike be damned! ‘Tis the Devil’s work.
Cadged a lift from The Lizard to Plymouth,
then ‘Thumbed-It’ over to Portsmouth.
I’ll ride the ferry all night,
11 long hours until I stand before her at last.
She paces the streets of St Malo,
as I thunder across The Channel’s black, swirling sea.
Riding the invisible bond which keeps pulling me on…
towards euphoria, serenity and rhythm-touching insanity.
2 bars on board, and I keep swaggering between them.
My impatience electric, intoxicating and infectious,
I turn heads quickly wherever I appear.
The excitement keeps me sure of will and focused…
fighting a magnificent battle of screaming emotions,
I plough the waves ever forward, towards
this all conquering, consuming, now inevitable destiny.
More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.