Monday, March 19, 2012

Here's one you may like!

By Buckshot

The road winds through the mountains
caressed by towering trees.
Her tires sing to the pavement
and their song lifts on the breeze.
I see my image in her mirror
as I roll her throttle on.
An old man’s looking back at me,
his best days come and gone.

I feel her ageless hunger,
I know her endless thrill,
and miles of highway disappear
as her V-twin eats its fill.
I’m familiar with her trembling
like the flesh of lovers lost,
and I know I’ll never give her up
no matter what the cost.

When I’m riding on these mountain roads
the long years fall behind;
she sweeps away my aches and pains
like cobwebs from my mind.
Her slipstream breeze caresses me;
gentle fingers from above,
I feel the sunshine kiss my cheek
like the afterglow of love

Unlike blood and human flesh
that lose their thirst for living,
she helps me drink of nature’s wine
and all the life it’s giving.
Some day I’ll hear The Reaper’s call
And my soul with him will fly,
‘till then I’ll twist her throttle hard
and live until I die.


  1. It's like I can feel the wind flowing through what's left of my hair! I need another T-bucket!

  2. This poem was for the Shovelhead in the picture. Glad you liked it! I'm also buildin' a hot rod. A '43 Ford pickup rat rod.

  3. Motion in poetry ~

  4. A great read. Keep them coming!