Bernard Shaw

Vagabond. - Poem by Bernard Shaw

They called me a Vagabond,
But I was a King of the Road.
My word was a solemn bond.
I was not the man to goad.
Free as the air I went on my way,
My head held high for all to see.
I worked on farms for very low pay,
It was just enough to keep me.
Luxury I had foresworn it was just a bubble,
Fresh air, Nature’s beauty was all I craved.
To make a bed of ferns was no trouble,
My day dreams my sanity saved.
If you ever meet a King of the Road,
A vagabond he may well be.
Know that he would not change his load,
For he is a free man just like me.

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Read poems about / on: change, nature, beauty, work, dream

Poem Submitted: Friday, October 17, 2003

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