Thoughts and tales from the saddle - on my own in Europe.

Friday, July 27, 2007


I dream of the soles of my feet on the cool kitchen floor,
Of the look on your face as you open the door.
I dream of sofas and films and cheese in the fridge,
Of cycling to town, over troll bridge.

I dream of England, of clouds and cool air,
Of people and pubs, the slight air of despair.
I dream of packing my things for the very last time,
Of not having to worry about thieves and their crimes.

I dream of talking to people who know who I am,
Of visiting friends, just because I can.
I dream of hearing conversations that I understand,
Of not having calluses on the palms of my hands.

I dream of good newspapers and Radio Two,
That hopefully one day I can read this for you.
I dream of a time when I won't have to move on,
Of sitting at your table, hearing your song.

I dream of cooking fresh food whilst sipping chilled wine,
Of the knowledge that I have lived dreams of mine.
I dream of the day when it will become clear,
Just exactly what it is that I'm learning here.


  • At 12:46 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Well I woke up this morning
    got them homesickness blues


    yes I woke up this ............

    Cheer up Percy, it`s STILL raining in England


  • At 5:34 pm, Blogger Anonymiss said…

    And did those feet in ancient time
    Walk upon England's mountains green?
    And was the holy Lamb of God
    On England's pleasant pastures seen?

    And did the Countenance Divine
    Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
    And was Jerusalem builded here
    Among these dark Satanic mills?

    Bring me my bow of burning gold!
    Bring me my arrows of desire!
    Bring me my spear! O clouds unfold!
    Bring me my chariot of fire!

    I will not cease from mental fight,
    Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
    Till we have built Jerusalem
    In England's green and pleasant land.

    Just something I threw together. (buffs nails)


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