I love to travel. I love exploring new places, experiencing new things -- new cultures, new ways of life, new sights and sounds. Right about now, halfway through the school year, I start thinking more and more about where I'd like to go come summer. (Not that I don't love my work, of course, but the thrill of heading straight out my front door is undeniable!) So I really liked this simple little poem about the lure of the open road.
Travel
The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn't a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with the friends I make,
And better friends I'll not be knowing,
Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,
No matter where it's going.
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