Meandering Poem by Phil Soar

Where streams meander down the paths that once were dry as bone
I walk along beside them, and meander on my own
The peaceful flow of water makes it feel I walk on air
And there's no other place I'd rather be, than over there

Through meadows and some pastures, all there seems to be is peace
No traffic noise, or other voices, bother this release
And knowing there's no place to go, but just my way back home
I walk beside this meandering stream, and enjoy being alone