The Traveller and the Baobab Tree …
1.
A summer breeze,
drifts down lonesome pathways and byways and alleyways,
touching worlds,
torn apart.
The breeze engulfs,
a pristine sky of blue,
while,
scattering the murmuring clouds,
that blanket the blazing African heavens,
in swirls and immaculate shrouds.
2.
A passing shower,
of gentle misty rain,
settles,
on freshly scented-earth.
It soothes,
it caresses,
the exhausted thoughts,
of,
a weary traveller,
who sits,
alone, all alone,
under a Baobab tree.
3.
The traveller walks alone,
at peace with the fragrant soil,
collecting memories of smiles embraced along the way.
4.
Finally, the wandering soul,
seeks rest,
finding peace at last,
yet …
yet …
knowing its price,
is to let go …
… of,
each memory,
and every smile,
that once burned true,
but now,
awaits release,
from the ache of the lingering past
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Scribbled Verse 