Full Moon Cabin — Image by kenne
There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,
A race that can’t stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain’s crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don’t know how to rest.
— from The Men That Don’t Fit In, by Robert W. Service
Becoming is Superior to Being 
amazing tones!!!
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Thank you. I appreciate your comment.
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Beautiful cabin!
I love the Robert Service poem he was one of my pa and grandpa’s favorites! Have you ever read The Cremation of Sam McGee by Service?
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No, I haven’t, but will make a point to — thanks.
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Each sibling in my Pa’s family had a talent they shared with the family around the campfire. My Pa sang and along with my Gpa memorized and wrote poetry they shared. The Cremation of Sam McGee here is the link if you want to read it. It’s really a great story/poem…
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cremation-of-sam-mcgee/
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Thanks for sharing.
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Of course, the gypsy in me related to the Robert Service poem quite easily. I would be perfectly happy roaming all the time…anyplace, it doesn’t matter where.
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