They race down the road
On their steed made of steel,
Straight through their hair
The wind they do feel.
Going faster and faster
On the road from their past,
Flying further away
From that which had passed.
Into the future of their new life,
Speeding away on their mighty bike,
Going quickly to their wherever,
To their wherever, wherever they like.
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Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 4th, 2018 01:55
- Comment from author about the poem: Not my speed, in my life slowly is the way to go.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 43
Offline)
Comments8
May I be that train looking forward to a future with a happy gaze.
Of course you can, the future is a wonderful place.
A fine write and clip Gold if only I wasn't in such a rush, dashing about on my steed in 1066. I may have taken time to think what to say to Harold, instead of 'Look up, Sire'.
Thanks Orchi.
And what steed was that, you always walked behind my whilst (there's a good word, whilst) I rode in glory with the King.
Wasn't there a story they used to teach in school about the hare and the tortoise?
Yes the tout Ouse always won, at the speed I travel I am hoping for the same. Thank you for your comments, much appreciated
Went to see Stephenson's rocket in Newcastle a few days ago - much better form of transport - great write Andy.
Certainly so, ypthank you Michael.
As life goes by we in time slow down and just look more than run along side. You'll keep moving fine though.
Slow is far better as there is so much to see in life. Thank you Heartwriter,
Your welcome.
slow, is my way too.
Much more can be seen if going slow, life is there to be enjoyed in the slow lane.
absolutely.
a wonderful train of thought
Thank you w c, most kind.
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