Poem 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 browsed through the trendy market,
    With fresh fruits of tropical kind;
Walked to the creek through lush thicket -
    Nature's hand giving peace of mind.

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 http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book - & follow links to hear it sung)
Or http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)