The Road's Song

I'm in the mood for a little poetry. This is a little motorcycle poem I wrote a year or so ago. Revisting it, I find that I like it. I wasn't so sure back when I wrote it, but it's grown on me. I hope you enjoy it.


A lonely road is singing to me.
I hear it whispering in breathy air,
A song for my need, to set passion free,
Seducing, telling me to have no care
For home or for kin or all I hold dear.
Her song squirms into me, twisting my soul,
I cannot resist in spite of my fear,
She’s pulling me onto her siren’s shoal.

Abandon all! Ride to her beckoning!
Her call is like hearing a lover’s moan.
I care not the price, or the reckoning,
I ride! I take her! I make her my own!
I follow the sweep of her rounded curves,
Her lines rise and fall in sensuous ways,
The feel of her beneath me tingling nerves
To such joy! I’m soon lost, can’t count the days.

She goes on forever in front of me,
Tireless lover, a giver of bliss.
The engine and I roar in ecstasy,
The road screams right back at the tires’ long kiss.
We are entwined my lover and I,
Writhing this way and that, left and then right,
Up and down, until I think we must try
To soar above earth in climactic flight!

Even the hardest must rest from her song,
No mortal can stand the withering lust,
Can take the passion for only so long,
Not forever ride, else turn into dust.
No, I must stop and take stock of my mind,
Feed my poor body and my soul besides,
Walk on my feet; stand still until I find
Some peace from the road’s all consuming ride.

I no longer hear the road’s siren song
Where once it would not get out of my head.
Will there be a home? I was gone so long.
The way I just left, they must think me dead.
So I wake up and am sick to the bone.
Since my madness began, life’s been a blur.
The road no longer sings; I feel alone.
I turn my bike home in hope of a cure.

The ride home is slow, but as I draw near,
I sense a sweet song just tickling my ear.