Long Journeys, by Kezia Owens

Oh, the torment,

Oh, the boredom,

Lo, the long-suffering that we need.

Heed the monotonous sound of the engine,

Droning me to sleep.

Five minutes later I stir,

And think an hour has passed,

But I’m still in the area that I saw last.

Overlooking villages, cities and fields,

Watching for our destination,

Feeling sick and desperate,

Because of the suspension.

At last, our surroundings look familiar,

Our journey’s end is drawing nigh,

As the motor slows down,

What a wave of relief rushes o’er me,

That I daren’t think of what awaits on the journey home…




2 thoughts on “Long Journeys, by Kezia Owens

  1. I recognise the feelings you express so well in this poem! The anticipation yet the agony!

    At least home is at the end of the journey home. Maybe that’s why the journey home always seems shorter…


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