Monthly Archives: November 2015

Over Bitumen, Gravel and Dust

Although my memory’s now foggy, I can still recall, the endless roads I travelled, oh so long ago.
Up windy mountain tracks, ‘round sweeping country bends, I made it crossing deserts, and all kinds of rough terrain.

Way upon those mountain tops I’d nearly touch the sky, Mother Nature’s beauty always made me cry.

Always packed and ready, I’d hit the road at dawn, to travel down that road first thing with a hearty strawn.

Far into the night I drove, alongside blue gullies, creeks, and groves.

My old heart beats for one last look at a new sunrise, there I’d sit along the water’s edge and bid old Sol goodnight, and the first rays of light herald a new sunrise.

My travelling days are now over for I have gotten old, my batteries too flat to set out again to kick a few more goals.

I yearn to hit the road once more, over bitumen, gravel and dust, and shout to the world, Hey You! It’s Gundagai or bust!

Pictures appear of a campervan heading out due west; its paint had faded years before but was still a comfy nest.

Late at night the van was parked, roof popped up under stars, with dinner done and time for sleep I lay and looked above, and there he was so big and red, the night sky’s handsome Mars.

Before too long, a storm rolled in and shook the van about, with flashes of lightning and booming thunder, I prayed dear God nothing be cast asunder.

Deliciously haunting this memory always will be, of a lone faded campervan flanked by desert, sand and sea.

A field of green will soon cover me, and while I wait I’ll dream my dreams, of long ago adventures and the in-between.

Should I travel again the Nullabor Plain, I’d shout hooray and yippee! Just like that old, kitty cat that went and got the cream.

I dream a dream where I still see long, straight roads ahead of me, and in my dream the roads do beckon, come to me, come to me, come to me. Just one more road, and one more bend, the roads they beckon me.

Distracted now I peer outside, and see my pond how it shimmers and ripples just like years ago while on Lake Talbingo.

It was right on dusk when the dingo came, its amber eyes on me, sniffing once, sniffing twice, until it disappeared. Ah Lake Talbingo, a place I hold so dear. Your eerie waters enchanted me, and the tales of fierce Bunyips hiding there amongst the trees.

Wide open roads, rocky canyons, lakes and waterfalls, oh how I miss them, I miss them all, those faraway places I call my spiritual home.

As my life is fading Hiraeth sends out its call, it gently whispers to me, come along, come along, come along back home.

Soon no restrictions will hold me, the boundary will be gone, my soul will once again travel so please, please do not mourn.

That’s when you’ll find me once I have gone, along the roads I have travelled – shhhh listen, and you will hear me softly whistling, a song of good cheer. Along the roads I travelled, over bitumen, gravel and dust.