Beyond The Horizon
by Helen George

One born with wanderlust is born to be lonely,
The open road beckons and bids to you only,
To drop what you're doing and move beyond,
The road silently forges a very strong bond.

You might stay for a while in a nice little town,
But before too long, you start to look around,
In the distance, the horizon is pulling you in,
And ere long, you answer the call once again.

Old now and tired, you wish you could stop,
Becoming so weary you think you might drop,
But once you've rested up, it happens once more,
The road sends a signal, one you cannot ignore.

You've been many places, not much did you miss,
But when you look back, it all comes down to this:
You're that restless old fool, stooped and wizened,
Who still wonders what lies beyond the horizon.