I was with you on that road;
I too felt the soft wind resist me
And saw the patterned fields
Defined by ancient walls of stone.
To linger is to feel held by the surrounding air,
Sometimes stroking the skin like a caress,
Or blanketing the ears
with a sudden burst of strength.
Folds of land unfold as I pass them by.
Thrilled by the endless difference of every scene
I know I shall never tire of its changing beauty;
I know that I shall return.