Winding paths, roads, lanes, rivers, & seas,
Forests & old woods, traced through trees,
Deserts, ice-caps, lagoons & the oceans
wild,
“And where is Atlantis?” asks the excited child.
Adventurers, explorers & ancient earlier
man,
Traipsed, walked, rode, sailed & even far
swam,
Looking for rumoured lands & far away worlds,
Searching for gold, diamonds & undersea
pearls.
Mapped & scribed, lines painted & in
old ink traced,
Upon parchment & velum, pathways so well
laced,
Stretched upon tight old skins & rolled
in old scrolls,
Maps & globes in sepia & when lost,
rolls & unfolds.
Wayfarers, seafarers, missionaries of long gone
& past,
Gold diggers & pirates, all travelling,
slow, far or fast,
Upon pathways & roads, man-made & sorely
uprooted,
Where quiet nature once slept, undisturbed &
un-looted.
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