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Once her thunder

Cracked the dawn.

Her pipes now cold

Her life is gone.



No roads to conquer,

No horizons to chase.

She sits dust covered

In this lonely place.



He polished her daily,

Bought her all the chrome.

Rode her everywhere

The road was their home.



He had two loves

Her and his wife.

Together the three

Celebrated life.



Rolling out early

With the first sun.

They would do 400 miles

Before their day was done.



To the north, the south

To the east, the west.

Ride down the valley

And up the hill’s crest.



Stop when they saw

Something rare

Take a picture

Later to share.



Sweep through curves

Rumble through towns.

Their joy and pleasure

Never knew bounds.



The news was not good.

That came that day.

He was to be taken

And all should pray.





Pray for time

Pray for a cure

Pray to accept

What was coming for sure.



She went to the shed

She never knew why.

The wife who took her

Could only cry.



Standing idle, forgotten

Alone in the shed.

Her saddle empty

Her rider is dead.



She is now committed

To fall to rust.

He who rode her

Has returned to dust.



Slowly she felt

Her tires go flat.

Her only visitor

Was a moth eaten old cat.



Steadfast and faithful

She accepted her due.

She was old and dusty

Far past brand new.



One bright afternoon

Voices were about

“It’s in the shed Gran?

Can I please bring it out?”



“I’ll be careful Mom

I’ll treat her with care.

I’ll ride safely

I’ll respect your prayer”



Light broke across

Her front fender

Anxious young hands

Touched her so tender.





Out of the shed

Out in the light

A clear faced young man

Drank in the sight.



He saw roads to conquer

Horizons to chase.

He straddled her saddle

Finding his place.



Polished once more

Everything right

Her chrome sparkling

She’s a beautiful sight



Once again her thunder

Cracks the dawn.

Her pipes again throb with joy

As they sing their song.





 

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Very Good.

dean_3326 :12red:
 

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Thank you. I like to write it.



My bike by the way is a reincarnated bike, I have talked to the original owners widow. She was happy to hear it was still on the road. Strange, he called her Freedom Steed and I call her Soarise!
 
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Hey Brojees :waving:Very good. :clapper:

:leprechaun::18red::leprechaun:
 

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Thank you Redwing. I believe it is because I am Irish by blood.

Want some Irish ones?
 

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You are welcome Vic.

Sandi and I are Christian Motorcyclists Association, Sheperd's Soldiers chapter. Next weekend we ride with the Nevada/Eldorado Springs chapter. One of our bikes will have a sidecar fitted for Smitty from N/ES. He has cancer pretty bad and this will be his swan song ride. I was asked to write him a poem.
 
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Brojees wrote:
Next weekend we ride with the Nevada/Eldorado Springs chapter. One of our bikes will have a sidecar fitted for Smitty from N/ES. He has cancer pretty bad and this will be his swan song ride.
Hey Brojees :waving: I hope Smitty really enjoys the day. :clapper:

:walker::18red::walker:
 

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Brojees wrote:
You are welcome Vic.

Sandi and I are Christian Motorcyclists Association, Sheperd's Soldiers chapter. Next weekend we ride with the Nevada/Eldorado Springs chapter. One of our bikes will have a sidecar fitted for Smitty from N/ES. He has cancer pretty bad and this will be his swan song ride. I was asked to write him a poem.
That is a really great thing to do.

dean_3326 :12red:
 

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Very nice Brojees we to do charity rides up this way to theirs a children's brain tumor run we do and after we all go back and take the kids for a short ride if they want to go nothing like the smile on the kids face to brighten your day:D

Also there's a toys for tots run we do last year There was I think they said over 50.000 bikes that showed thats not to bad for December 2 its for the needy kids who would not have a Christmas

and there's one called the Midnight run to help an orphanage
 

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We rode in black under a cheerful sun,

Faces down, somber depressed.

No smiles had we, no cheer to share

Two by two, we rode abreast.



We still followed Smitty

As road captain, simply the best.

Sure and certain, never lost

Two by two, we rode abreast.



Something was missing this day

Counting the bikes, there was one less.

Who could it be, look back the line?

Two by two, we rode abreast.



All there, the line intact

Behind us were all the rest.

Look to the lead then. Look ahead

Two by two, we rode abreast.



There was a bike missing

In it’s place, a van.blackness.

And there aside, Smitty’s brother rode.

Two by two, he took him to rest.

[align=center]
[align=center][/align]
[align=center]Glinnith "Smitty" Smith[/align]
[align=center]May 25, 1955--May 19, 2005[/align]
[align=center]El Dorado Springs, Missouri[/align]
[align=center][/align]
[align=center][/align][/align]
 
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