Читать книгу Periodic Poetry - Gregory J. McKenzie - Страница 12

They often arrive without notice,

Upsetting others with their lack of focus.

In shorts big socks and huge back packs,

These ramblers relentlessly follow bush tracks.

Never stopping with locals to talk or to chat,

Healthy types that look keen but down never sat.

Always making big strides in even bigger boots,

Munching on cheese wedges nuts and dried fruits.

Hills climbed then abandoned for a dales prance,

Often locked in a fight with nature's violent dance.

Red faces exposed to the sun rays and its heat,

Never stopping for a drink or to rest their feet.

Disdaining any help when in trouble never asking,

Surging past those who offer calling out "just passing".