Introduction:
Following on from the previous post (The Traveller), I believed that there was more to write on this topic. Therefore this is the next instalment on this topic. If one was to play Chris Stapleton’s “Traveller” and then consider the poem that I have composed for this post. I am certain that It will make much more sence than I could ever write on elsewhere.
If we are a traveller on this Road of life, then the Heavy Loads we end up carrying will not be of extra use or benefit. That which we pick up on this road of life is an experience and a lesson we can pick up or carry on to the end of this journey. I cannot find a benefit in taking any bitterness or hatred which we picked up in life along with us.
Yet what we learn through this walk of life becomes a benefit and is something worth walking through regardless of the end result.
About The Poem:
As already stated if we were but travellers on this road that is life and the lessons and experiences we picked up on becomes something of benefit. Yet how we deal with others along this road also becomes important. How we deal with That which is about us, from wildlife or domesticated animals to Others whom we meet along our way, also benefits us.
Do we decide to influence and change that around us just to suit ourselves? Or do we become a more positive influence to that around us? How we see ourselves as a traveller on this road of life still becomes important.
Yet this poem is an interesting read and a topic that one should chew upon for insight, thought or for other views again. The decision is always yours to make, are we to become a positive influence or a negative one.
Having said all of this, Please enjoy this Poem:

(( The above Photograph was taken from an outside source and posted here with thanks and as always Copyrite remains with those who carried out such great work ))
The Traveler (ii)
Like a train going on it’s way, somewhere,
He’s a Traveller moving on a prayer.
Steady is the pace, - here on life’s race,
As Grace, there appears to kiss - his face.
She is a traveller on this weary road,
Her steps are loaded where dreams did explode.
Purpose is her compass pointing her there,
Who knows the care - that is to compare.
When lost chances soon - became Life’s dance,
Forgetting the toll, walking in a trance.
Here you find - the traveller’s heart beats strong,
Lasting long this, - is it’s silent song.
For we are Travellers out on Life’s ocean,
And the loads we carry are no potion.
But the sands of time pass and ne’er is slow,
Yet the roads travelled, - marked up below.
The gardeners share - beyond our dispair,
But the Travellers walk is there to compare.
Seen in the reflections - of our being,
For the roads we are walking, worth seeing.
© Pat Fitzgerald 2024
ENDING THOUGHTS:
Thank you for following me on this journey, that is incomposing and creating poetry. If Life is a journey which we all walk on, then my journey in creating Poetry is a journey of it’s own. Which I still learn much on as I write.
At times I experiment on methods or way how I can improve my poetry, therefore getting feedback is always most welcome for such as these.
When I write poetry, some readers may be offended with something within the poetry. I do not write to offend, But such are written for reasons I outline in the posts. Often I miss typos and mistakes when publishing each poem. BUT I correct the moment I discover such mistakes.
But Poetry is a form of art work that I enjoy and thus using it in a manner to touch or inspire the reader.
I would like to Pass on my thanks to you for joining me on this journey.
Poetry is a learning curve where I always strive to improve. Often due to the speed of my typing and a few other issues, mistakes and typos will find their way into published posts. I continue to work on improving this as I move along. One such change is how I have been writing and how my poetry appears in relation to how the rest of the blog appears. So much work goes into editing and reediting and then repeating that process on a number of occasions until i am happy with the result.
Please forgive for any such mistakes and for your understanding this.
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Until Next Time Cheers.
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Amazing poetry. A little poem for you.
” I left you on a Sunday morning and
I left my wallet on the kitchen sink.
I went West till I forgot my name,
I went to the sea.
Tossed yesterday memories into the sea.
I became a stranger, a ghost by the sea.”
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Thank you My friend, I love your poetry., great work
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