HOMESTEAD

HOMESTEAD

Born and bred in the UK,
My father’s father’s home,
But I have these itchy feet,
That sometimes want to roam.

I want to spread and cast my wings,
To fly and rise above,
To look down on many continents,
And places I could love.

China may be calling me,
Japan might catch my eye,
France and Rome could tempt my feet,
As I go passing by.

But I’m stuck here with commitment,
Of what is in my heart,
For you can travel half the world,
Yet never truly part.

British through and through I am,
Like Blackpool rock inside,
Snap me cleanly down the middle,
And there my roots reside.

Not the rock upon the seashore,
Or one on barren land,
But the rock that pushes onwards,
When life makes new demands.

I’m like a stamp upon a letter,
That’s travelled far and wide,
Across the seas and continents,
With nowhere left to hide.

The stamp knows where it’s been before,
It knows where it is going,
No matter what the weather brings,
Rain, shine, wind or snowing.

And though my eager feet may roam,
Wherever I may be,
There’s something pulling at my heart,
Across each distant sea.

No finer place upon the map,
The UK, that’s my home,
The place my heart returns to,
No matter where my eager body roams