Copyright © 2011 -
Angela E Brooks
My fingers tap a sharp retort, upon the desk, upon the chair
My feet tap and wriggle, I can’t ignore it anymore.
The wind is calling, the long road stretches
And in the far distance the late sun beckons
With no-one to stop me, to shop me, to trap me
I leave by the front door without looking back.
Now marching, arms swinging and distant bells ringing
I’m wandering, I’m roving, I’m living my life
With nothing to lose and so much to gain
I march on towards seeing those bright days again
I’m jumping for joy, this is the life for me
To ramble, to wander, to rove and be free
My bed is the cool earth, my blanket – the sky
A rock is my pillow, on my earth bed I lie.
I eat what I forage, fruit, berries and nuts
I no longer worry what time the shop shuts!
So loudly I sing my wandering song that
The folks in the townships are singing along.
I’m a rambler, I’m a gambler I’m a long way from home
Love me or hate me, I’m roaming alone.
I’m as bare as the trees, now their leaves have gone
I’m as bare as I was on the day I was born
Don’t stop me, don’t trap me, though jeer if you must
I’ll never give up on my bare wanderlust.
I’m a rambler, I’m a gambler, I’m a long way from home
With no ties to bind me, I’m happy alone.