Ancestral Home
We travel the highways and byways of Britain,
Where sheep and cattle polka-dot green meadows,
Their grazing manicures the landscape
A soothing, relaxing prospect for eye and soul
This great little, gentle green isle charms the heart,
I shall return, no doubt, I shall return,
Where history lives in villages small,
In towns and cities, large and small,
Side by side, with modern life.
Our fathers knew this land,
Perhaps an unknown cousin passes by,
This is a place to see, to know, to love,
The kings of old still tread the halls, the hills,
No matterr highways wide, buildings tall,
They will not be denied their place,
Despite our fast paced day,
We own our kinship to the past.
Message to the Traveler
Can you see me?
You, who walk beside me?
You've viewed cathedrals
Seen the castles, but can you see me?
I'm flesh and blood, the same as you,
Eat and sleep, walk and talk,
Just as you,
Why do you only see stones, buildings, ruins,
But never me?
We travel together,
In groups so large,
From place to place,
Only seeing scheduled sights,
Never a moment to stop,
Just to say "Hello",
Within our group we chat,
And learn of each other,
Never knowing those we pass.
How to bridge this barrier?
Move away from groups,
Learn to say "Hello",
Then we will learn to see,
Not only buildings, but people, too.
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