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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required He was a wandering man that travelled many miles staying a few days here and there, sometimes a week or two then his feet would get that familiar itch and on he'd go searching new horizons for his elusive dream. A lady in every town he visited, sighed, when he travelled on although he found them all enchanting, with none could he settle the call of the road was just too strong and those feet would itch wondrous sights he found as the roads led him ever onwards. In the lake district he loved the open spaces and towering hills the sparkling lakes that nestled like gems at their feet the air that invigorated his soul with its fresh crispness to here he often returned and just soaked in the beauty. In the peaks he found a place from which seven counties were visible finding out it was for sale, he laid down his money and the deal was done a simplistic house he built made of cobb and oak that blended into the hills yet still those feet would itch and off he once more would go. The years passed by; often he returned for a month or two he found he was getting slower and inclined to linger in places longer then one day on the road he caught up to a fellow traveller that night they lingered around a camp fire sharing stories. Oh the stories they both had could fill several books with wondrous memories she had been travelling for 30 years he a bit longer, yet until now never with another, both had always been solitary by choice he took her to his home in the dales and shortly after they wed Still every two to three months they would share a glance and each would know the others feet felt that age old itch so forth they would set off to discover new horizons once more safe in the knowledge they had each other and their cottage awaiting their return
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