So many of them
\nI call my friends:
\nThose I love.<\/p>\n
They live in a land
\nI proudly call home.
\nA land I never left,
\nBut in body.
\nAs much a part of me,
\nThis wide brown land,
\nAs are the friends
\nThat make up my being.<\/p>\n
Those from my youth,
\nFrom my childhood;
\nThose whom I love,
\nI miss;
\nMany, many –
\nToo many times, for
\nTheir presence
\nI have wished.<\/p>\n
But their presence here
\nAway from that land
\nCould not be the same:
\nI left of my own accord,
\nAnd will return to the
\nLand of my home.
\nI shall return to that part
\nOf my life,
\n(As often in memory I go)
\nTo my friends,
\nAnd the heart
\n(My home).<\/p>\n
That land is my friend too.
\nHow many times have I wandered
\nIts shores,
\nPondering?
\nWalked Solitary, just me
\nAnd the trails
\nOver land
\nUnadulterated by man.<\/p>\n
And I know and I fear,
\nThat man shall be there
\nIn the places my solitude
\nWould reign:
\nThe lonely seashores,
\nThe lakes and the moors,
\nAnd the mountains
\nThe bush and the streams.
\nThe deserts, the caves,
\nThe beaches, the waves,
\nThe sands, the dunes,
\nAnd the fields;
\nThe plains, and
\nThe trees,
\nThe roos, and wallabies;
\nAnd the birds,
\nThe snakes and the lizards.
\nAnd my friend the spider,
\nAnd the friendly blue skies
\nAnd the rains and the storms
\nAnd the seasons.
\nThe cold and the hot,
\nThe laugh, good and long,
\nOf a kookaburra, alone in the trees.
\nI remember too well,
\nThe bush tracks and trails,
\nThe harbours, the sails,
\nThe dolphins, jellyfish,
\nAnd the sharks.
\nBut what’s remembered
\nAnd cherished most,
\nAnd forever
\nFollows wherever I go,
\nIs the laughter, the
\nLove and the cheer,
\nAnd the jokes, and the play,
\nAnd the bored lost days,
\nAnd the friends
\nThat I don’t have here.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
So many of them
I call my friends:
Those I love.<\/p>\n
They live in a land
I proudly call home.
A land I never left,
But in body.
As much a part of me,
This wide brown land,
As are the friends
That make up my being.<\/p>\n
Those from my youth,
\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-239","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poems","category-social"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/239","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=239"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/239\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":678,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/239\/revisions\/678"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=239"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=239"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=239"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}