Waarfhoezen and Burum

Steeped in infamy unkind and stepped in ties bind due north
I centered my true path upon stone and lath and went forth.
With no two bandits, nor even two hermits, shown ever alight
where silk trades for cotton for those misbegotten in sight.
On a rightful pilgrimage beneath a justful passage weighed in
to count of Spanish scholars by a lady of seven dolours within.
To escape a Sea of Wadden and drivel of wise men so untrue
I collected twigs and logs amidst a dense fog to form a canoe.
Upon the morning light mine eyes greeted sight of a new home
in an old hermit's abode at the end of a road: a one man Rome.