Spare a glass for the traveller
And hay for his steed
Spare glasses for the men
Far away from their needs
Watch them saddle horizons
Ride on mountain air
They wonder about woods
But they keep to the plains
The shadows don’t care
‘Cause they’re not here to stay

Spare a glass for the ones
Who travel by shoe
They can’t afford more
But there’s travelling to do
The wind blew New York
Right into their hearts
They’ll get there late
But they’ll get there in time
To learn all their parts
And say their one line

Give a glass to the one
Who waits by the gate
He watches the storms
But in shadows he stays
He sees all those ranges
And pilgrims thereon
If they didn’t follow tracks
They wouldn’t be so alone
Then they’re here and they’re gone
And he’s still here at home

Spare a glass for the pauper poet
To help his words go down
For all who saw what he saw
When their days’ shadows went round
The world is so large
But you can make it so dim
And far may be foggy
But you can make yourself blind
Either way it’s a sin
To just sit in your mind

Written 30/01/2025