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poet707747


 Nomadic Wandering

The dusty regions of the wasteland of my mind;
Unused for years, yet a perfect place to hide.
Finding a niche where troubles cannot find me;
A peaceful oasis where I can rest for a while.

A breeze blows across this desolate landscape;
Bringing a breath of cool air on a stifling night.
I know that worries will soon find me, but for now,
Relaxing in a hammock under the palms, stars twinkling.

Morning comes, the blazing heat scorches my back;
The world and its cares force me back on the road.
Traveling again until I find another desolate corner;
Continuing this Nomadic wandering across my mind.

11Aug09


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