RIDING

By T. A. Royse

How do I tell you of the many things I’ve seen,

Of rolling hills and valleys lush with the green?

Where are the wondrous words I can use to describe

The feeling that I have when riding with the tribe?

Watching flocks of wild birds taking to the wing

And sharing in their freedom is a joyous thing.

Deer loping down a ditch line and up into the field

And I was running with them until I had to yield.

In the wind is honeysuckle and the smell of hay

And sometimes near a diner bacon wafts your way.

On a hot afternoon between the river and the cliffs

The breeze is just perfect and your spirit lifts.

The massive pumping engine down between your knees

Delivers power from the throttle anytime you please.

There is a sense of freedom; man you might just fly.

There is a touch of edginess ‘cause you might just die.

The group grows closer as you ride along.

It seems the big engines are singing the same song.

We are the Riders and the highway is our place.

It is the silver ribbon that lends us our grace.

There is one experience that I love the best,

A small thing that happens; different from the rest.

Sometimes at the road’s side a child is standing there,

A look of awe upon him and his thumb is in the air.

Then God is in his heaven and I am on the road.

The world is right and proper. There ain’t no heavy load.

There are no wondrous words I can use to describe

The feeling that I have when I’m riding with the tribe.

Written for the M&M Riders

A free association of motorcyclists

From Mt. Sterling and Montgomery County Kentucky

And the surrounding area.