And so we dream of adventuring And store the travel brochures in shoeboxes on our closet shelves And fall asleep singing to ourselves “on the shores of Mandalay where the flying fishes play” And then find a man who has a compass in his heart too Who hears the seagulls flying over Illinois corn fields And in time We take flight So many places with strange sounding names… Now in this octogenarian decade The names still call to us, like sirens on the rocks All those points not yet seen or touched But the bed also sets up a steady hum Home, it hums, home, stay here, be warm Snuggle down in the sleek sheets Never move again Outside in the winter moonlight, the Lorelei sing Kristin Moyer January 2024
Wanderlust
Comments
10 responses to “Wanderlust”
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Kristin! I loved the poem! Truly lovely. I hope you’re doing well. I still want to come to the DC area this year possibly to see whoever is still around. Would love to see you. Who knows maybe it will happen.
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Thank you so much, Elaine….and I do hope I see you when you visit DC!
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Kristin! I loved the poem! Truly lovely. I hope you’re doing well. I still want to come to the DC area this year possibly to see whoever is still around. Would love to see you. Who knows maybe it will happen.
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At our age there is a conflict between the comfort of home, the warmth of our own bed, and the security of our daily routine , friends, activities, and family. Yet, we still long for some occasional change in the routine, a chance to see new places, meet new people, taste new foods. Our serenity is valued, yet our yearning for just a little more adventure lingers.
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Thanks, Kristen, great summary of my poem! I think I may have a bit of Viking dna in me.
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Lovely Kristin.
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You really spoke to my heart Kristin.
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Thank you so much, my friend!
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Oh my dear Kristin, I so appreciate your deep talent for identifying the deep part of our lives.
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Thank you; my mind spends a lot of time on these questions.
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