The Path

As I walked along the way Beside the grand bay I searched for million ways Lest I should go astray Lonely and cold Breathless I stand before the hold Where I was so bold And almost got sold The clouds herald their march It took many to scratch Upon the wooden birch In sight of a search For what lay beholden Was not golden But for many miles ridden That made me emboldened Now as I recall that day There's nothing coming in the way For it lies far away ...beyond my sway.