My Motorcycle Romance

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My year-long odyssey into the various styles of poetry has taught me many lessons about myself. I enjoy getting lost in the world of rhyming words. There still isn’t one style of poetry I would choose as my favorite to write in. July is the perfect month to create a selection of free verse poems. This style of poetry has no rules, which I find liberating. They don’t have to rhythm, but I suspect mine will rhythm because that is how I roll. One of the poems I plan to share during this month of free verse is My Motorcycle Romance.

My Motorcycle Romance

Gallantly, you mount your two-wheeled metal steed,

And offer your hand to help me climb behind.

A chivalrous deed,

You perform without a second thought.

Like a knight of old, you whisk me away,

An adventure to grasp whatever we might find,

On our journey to boldly seize the day.

Out beyond the city limits sign,
Where corn tassels radiate pollen into the air,
As they stretch out to reach the sky.
Curvy roads on a yellow ribboned highway defined,
By the landscape and farm fields so square,
Past grain silos and small country towns we fly.

You navigate skillfully down narrow two lanes,

The roar of the motorcycle engine smothering every sound.

You know where you are going,

There is no mistake.

The yellow road sign screams,

“Beware, fresh oil, loose gravel.”

Without slowing down or bother to break,

My blood pumps harder through my veins.

Because this is the road we are destined to travel.

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!

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Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

6 thoughts on “My Motorcycle Romance

  1. I sit upon the roar of thee,
    twist grips gripped and I soar with thee,
    two down three up I click through the gears with thee,
    front wheel lifts, back wheel drifts, heel and knee to the floor and leathers worn out with thee,
    foot peddle sparks, scratch off the road as I bank left and right with thee,
    ton up dashes, straight road flashes, past with thee,
    humpback bridge take off flight landing with no skid with thee,
    traffic light starts like gray hounds do dart off into an impromptu race with thee,
    building revs and engine noise to split the nights silent sound with thee,
    the get me out of here and set me free of thee,
    how I do so much miss really miss the joy of thee…..

    1. ah, so this is poem lol lol… I can write impromptu once triggered by a thought or words of others… so, it’s for you to do as you wish… if that’s not weird…thank you for getting back to me 😊

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