This is a poem about a traveller at the end of his life who comes home and tells the lady at the pub about his travels alone before submitting to the rigors of old age and death. Not so much a poem, but written in a lyrical sense. I thought this up in one shot while sitting on the toilet of all places. No, I didn’t sit there and write it there, I just thought it up.

I did not spend time thinking about it, nor did I give it heavy editing. It sort of came off the top of my head. Enjoy.

The Man Who Travelled the World

By Patrick Rivers, 2020.02

Sit down travelling man,
Have some mead on me,
Tell me of your journeys,
And the places that you be.

Tell me of the world,
And tell me in your words.
Tell me of your adventure,
Your journey solo and alone.

I thank you Lady Stranger,
For the mead and your time.
Few wish to hear the story,
Of my travels in my prime.

I’ve got so much to tell,
My life is at the end of the road,
I have not been here at home,
In the thirty years since it snowed.

So I tell my story,
A travelling man of the land.
I never had a love or family,
Nor did I join a merry little band.

You see, Lady Stranger,
There are mysteries out and bound,
I explored towns and landscapes,
Where on no map they can be found.

Misty hills, and peaceful plains,
With waterfalls crystal clear,
Friendly faces and architecture,
Very few times I need to fear.

I made friends of folk and beast,
Climbed mountains wide and tall,
Met dragons, fairies, and sailed on airships,
In winter, summer, spring, and fall.

But it has been a lonely journey,
I always travelled as one,
Now my adventure is finally over,
My elder life is nearly done.

Now I’ve finished my mead,
This old man is ready to die.
I’ve had enough of this world,
It’s time for the eternal lie.

I bequeath to you, dear young lass,
My journals, and therefore my life.
See the world through my words and eyes,
It’s not all full of hatred, ill and spite.

Yes, dear travelling man,
I will keep your words true and dear.
When you pass unto the afterlife,
I will shed many a tear.

The gauntlet has been passed,
To continue your journey and roam.
So many more distant lands to explore,
But I shall never do it alone.

And now I tell my story,
A travelling woman of the land.
With my love we roam as two,
As a merry little band.

~ # ~