I wrote this some years ago and just found it in my archives
The lonely wanderer strides the road
of life at a steady pace.
His thoughts reflect on the years gone by
and the past of the human race.
He is thinking about his own life,
of all the sights he has seen
of deep blue seas and forests
and of fields of luscious green.
He thinks of towering mountain peaks,
of valleys deep and cool ,
he thinks of lakes and deserts
of an oasis’ inviting pool.
Who created all this beauty?
Who could the creator have been?
Who possessed such imagination
to create what I have seen?
He wanders on and starts to dream,
I know what I shall do
I shall compose a poem
in order to honour you.
I thank you wise creator
who gave us this wonderful land
I shall sing your praises forever
until my life will end.