To The Ends Of The Earth Poem by Peter Strugnell

Tell me this, do you think, that life has passed you by,
I always search, when I look, deep in your eyes,
it's hard you know, to love someone, completely you'll find
with mystic countries, and distant sunsets, always on your mind,

and then again, don't think that I, don't really care,
but you're never here, by my side, when your spirit is there
well all the best, I wish you well, on your journey unknown,
I'm strong enough, I'm tough enough, to make it on my own,

and I'd go to the ends of the earth for you,
down narrow streets and the wide avenues,
across desert plains, beyond the hills,
through tulip fields, and the daffodils,
and even when we're far apart,
you'll be on my mind and close to my heart.

It takes a leap, of blind faith, to let you go,
but I can't keep you, in ropes and chains, this at least I know,
between rocky desert, and alpine trail, and fathomless oceans,
you'll find tranquillity, and inner peace, that elusive of emotions.

So when the fire, that you burn, is all but spent,
when you're tired, weary of the road, and haven't got a cent,
come back to me, I'm still here, if you're not too proud,
we'll start again, where we left off, I think that's still allowed.

So tell me again, of your travels, and the people you met,
from the carnival, down in Rio, to the mountains of Tibet,
tell me tales, of the Golan heights, where the eagles cry,
but have a heart, please don't ask, if life has passed you by.