Foreign Friendship

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To a globe trotter, I am wed,

His in-ter-ests are quite widespread,

And so this rancher girl has found

That, with her man, she gets around.

Our travels started out quite slow,

To those who spoke as us, we’d go,

But soon he wanted more: To get,

Our foreign travel toe-sies wet.

And so to Rhodes. He booked us there,

A hotel ‘near the Old Town square’.

Online was in it’s infancy,

And still had glitches, as you’ll see.

So when we told the taxi man,

He frowned while loading up his van.

But drove us far away from town,

Then stopped and took our luggage down.

The inn was nice, as we supposed.

Just one thing wrong, the place was closed.

We pounded on the door, in hope

We’d raise someone to help us. Nope.

The taxi’d started moving: slow,

Something was wrong, he had to know.

We ran and flagged him. Me in tears.

This trip was feeding all my fears.

His white teeth showed in a wide grin,

He stopped and helped us climb back in.

Then gently told us not to fret.

“I’ll have you settled soon, I bet.”

To ‘his cousin’s’ place, he said he’d drive.

(I was simply glad to be alive.)

He drove us to the Phaedra then,

So we could somehow start again.

A man came out to greet us there,

All white of smile and dark of hair,

His arms were—to us—opened wide,

“Welcome home, friends! Come inside!”

The Phaedra proved a real God-send,

It’s owner, soon a trusted friend.

Ironically, it proved to be,

What we had sought originally.

We travel lots, my man and I.

We drive and sail and hike and fly.

Some people speak like us, and some

Use foreign words to get things done.

My fear is gone, I must admit,

Though, at first, it hampered. Quite a bit.

Cause I won’t forget (I can’t pretend),

The kindness of that first sweet friend.

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