A Traveller Poem

We never stop travelling, never stop marvelling, never stop.

High elated, yet indivisibly bound

In two dimension to the ground.

Around the globe

In his grey robe

Can the restless traveller be found.


Through countless countries he did stride,

Was seen on the steepest mountainside

Saw fields in gold,

Trees thousand fold,

And crossed all five oceans at any tide.


Million people see his hasting grace.

He suddenly appears but never stays.

He has no home

But travel syndrome.

Endlessly rushing down his chosen ways.


Only once, he stops his journey’s reign

When he touches the concrete lane.

Again he is whole

Metal body and soul.

A born traveller, a shadow of an aeroplane.


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