Papa needs a Harley to climb towards the sky.
Escape towards the mountains, to leave smog city behind.
Is it wrong to ask this of me, with times scales weighted against
a grandfather not retired but restless from years of tests?
Once I knew this freedom of suiting up and on the ride, that was long before the babies came and rocking replaced rawhide.
I picture how I want it, blue waterfall and green glen but as to passengers and the soft tail that seat remains un occupied
until... I'll let you know when.
Papa must now travel but you continue to grow, I"ll write you bedtime poems and send them through the mail, my bro Animal will deliver come snow or hail.
If he is late on delivery I have more Friends Of The Soul, Deb. will tell my story laced with love and bold.
To stay would stifle things inside, I cannot quite define yet all me yearns to seek a destnation, perhaps just in my mind but
the rumblings cannot be denied!
I"ll ride with no club though with many I might hang for in truth I know more than a few.
Such adventures to write while sitting on pure power, just one a couple
of truly good buds taking off at any hour.
Grandpa wants his Harley!
M.Bryant
2-13-09