My journey has been long, I've wandered far.
Now, in the fading light, I rest and turn
and looking back across the evening scene
can see from whence I've come but, in between,
my track's now lost in dintless fields of green.
But, gazing longer, I can see the tree
at which I turned and, there, the hill I climbed
and, closer still, that stile I stumbled o'er.
And so, from mark to mark, I can redraw
the track that I have trod - can now see clear
the pattern of the path that's brought me here.











17 old applause
