"The beauty is in the walking;
betrayed by destinations."
The philatelist is never satisfied with
His joy is in the collecting.
Look at that man, engrossed and snowy
with sanding dust,
In his garage workshop.
Why is it that, when he completes the
He starts immediately on a footstool?
Because, even if these oaken objects
nor having made,
the true-squared frame or the polished
is where his pleasure's found,
But in the making of them.
The hard-breathing long-distance runner,
her forehead, jaw and fists
clenched against the clock and the
Runs not so much for the race's end
As for the running.
It is in the nature of hobbies
They are never performed for the
Always for the process.
Walking is not my hobby
With these verses as a product.
Ah, but there is more pleasure in the
Than in having written them.