Three PM Saturday

Praise those salicylates for the way they ease the pain in an old
Relic's nearly useless motorcycle wrists. Praise the cooling breeze
Which sweeps the shady spots beneath the trees, whose branches
In it gently sway and put a mind at ease. Praise the frigid beer at
Hand when one has done enough to stop, and seek relief from
His wrists' pain and shelter from the sun.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 31 times
Written on 2024-09-28 at 22:31

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Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Let that engine arise now, and go to Innisfree! Let that machine bring you godspeed down the road, roaring like my sister's Volvo 444 out of the farm in 1963, without a muffler!
2024-09-30


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
God how this getting older business brings these aches and body failings! On the other hand your poetry never shows signs of ageing, and you still can appreciate all these wonderfully positive things we have left in this troubled world. Long may the salicylates enable your riding - just take them cautiously, eh. Blessings, Allen
2024-09-29