Justine Knolle

Roaming the Land

Do not ask me where I am going.
For I myself do not know.
I follow intuition,
And I go with the flow.
Do not ask me for the time.
For I have no watch,
No clock, no dial.
Ive been on the road some time,
I do not know
A while.
Do not ask me for my name.
For I have none, I am
A nameless dame.
I am a roaming gipsy girl,
Walking the land,
That is green, lush and rural.
With no goal, no end,
No destination.
I have all the time.
I can be patient.
When I get there,
I will feel,
This is the place
Where I will heal.
I will set up camp,
A homely stead,
Where I will find
A man to wed.
He is out there now,
Roaming the land.
And, when I find him,
Will ask for my hand.
Hand in hand,
We shall walk from then.
From land to land,
Until the end.
Thursday 6 July 2006


All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Justine Knolle.
Published on e-Stories.org on 07/06/2006.


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