[at-l] A gift for all of you

[the_rev_mrf at kingcon.com (Martin Fors)]

To my hiking friends [ATL,]

I've just come back from my 50th high school reunion.  Along with the
excitement and wonder of greeting and trying to recognize my classmates, I
was given a gift.  It was originally given to me in the form of a person, my
English teacher, Leota Schoff, so many years ago when she gently exposed and
enlightened me onto the works of William Shakespeare.  Her latest gift,
however, is a group of poems, never seen before, only discovered by her
family after she died many years back, written of her own skillful mind and
writing.  I submit just one of them to you.  Pass it along if you like but
give credit where credit is due.  None of her poems have been published and
they are not copywritten... if you like I'll send one along each Saturday
evening - you'll see why.   Here goes:

Leota Schoff's poetry

Journey's End

I've a gypsy heart and vagabond feet,
  and love of the trail is strong;
And calling me forth with Piper's spell
  are the strains of a gypsy song.

But when I stand at my journey's end
  or pause where the trails all meet,
I find how little away from home
  has the Piper led my feet.

For whether, sea-hungry, I turn my steps
  toward Kent or the Cornish sea,
The sound of the surf and the salt-sea spray
  are Rockland again to me.

The stretch of the golden sands of Nice
  and the turquoise blue of Capri
Are weaving a spell that my heart knew well
  at Ogunquit-by-the-Sea.

There's never a mountain trail I take
  with the balsam scent of the wood
That doesn't bring to my mind again
  Katahdin's shimmering hood.

The paths of the world are a mystery,
  for jumble them how I will,
There's never a path my footsteps take
  through town or over the hill

That doesn't somewhere join a road,
  though a million miles from Maine,
A road the somewhere crosses the one
  that ends in a "Down-East" lane!


rusty