The Race Poem by Howard Johnson

Once I was in a race
It was noted,
For, Vigor of fancy
Strength of passion

The winner would
Take with him
Whom he loved in youth
Distinctly the remembrance
Lives without parameters
Of confined restriction

On the deeply grooved path
that led through
Devirse terrain
Divided by streams and calm waters
Places so pristine
That paradice could only describe
Being a race,
Never, was time to stop.

As the years mount
Become accumlated,
In numbers.
Will this race ever end