Poem-come-song, or lay, 2 of 230: WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN

Once drove an old sedan, up north,
From a place in Sydney to Cairns;
Then to Kuranda I went forth,
By train, to look without set plans.

I dined in a scenic cafe;
Then, outside, as I wrote for yen,
Some passing Kooris called-out: "Hey,
You go walkabout with your pen."

Request or question, I don't know -
Assured voices, elderly men.
That's now several years ago,
And I've seen the world - with my pen.

From walkaboutsverse.741.com
Or hear it chanted at myspace