Come with me a little while, and wander around the world,
cross the misty mountain ranges where shooting stars are hurled,
listen to the cuckoo song with Issa on the hillside,
and like young Wordsworth wonder where the owner now abides.
Wait for the night's star spangled light illuminate the sky,
and dream a dreamers dream whilst questioning why some still cry,
find the answer in morning frost, the price we pay for birth,
and if we follows Kipling's thoughts and find a man's true worth.
Or walk along the tow-path and play with our river mates,
and follow the flow to oceans vast, beyond river gates,
and learn to waltz with Whitman's walk upon the ebbing tide,
where wind and gales upon Teasdale's galleon freely ride.
Adding your comment:
This is a masterpiece of masterpieces. 
),and I really should get back over there.
