I roamed with my leg sore
Weary  in body and soul
For I was a traveller tired of the  lore
Which was learnt by my father before

The mountains loomed overhead
With arches that led
Deep in the ground which bore
The weight of these hills ages hence

The grass grew fresh and green
In meadows that weren’t seen
My footsteps were the first
My footprints stay here forever

As the flowers grew sweet and colourful
I knew it was time to explore
For I was a traveller weary of the lore
Which was learnt by my father before