My Knight on a motorbike, my nephew
once he is licensed with the confidence
to lift, off we go –
We want to do join a breakfast run, “Do
you want me to arrange your funeral? ”
his mother wryly commented
Now she can arrange mine also, I want
many songs at my wake and Whispering
Hope is one of them
Meantime, I’m licking my lips for the
feeling of wind in my hair, I’ll let them
grow in order to savour
The affair with wind and speed, we
won’t allow parental spite to spoil
our new-found joy!
Nice thought, Margaret, enjojed reading it.It is no fun unless you are moving.
Bellissimo! Ride the wind - whisper in the thunderous ears of the Tempest! Swoon sweetly, but enjoy! Rgds, Ivan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Way to go Margaret! Lovely write and ride! ! *10* Best wishes! Friend Thad