Silver Beast

This was written for my brother who had a silver Harley. Sadly he has passed away.

Silver Beast

I ride the wind
on my silver beast,
riding high on a paved retreat.

They say I’m not worthy
of such a treat
but I smile and wink
as I kick the beast.

The beast and I
have rode long and hard.
We know we are worthy
as we fly on by.

We fly so high
we can look down and see
those who smirked
were wanna-be’s.

A simple grin
and a wave goodbye
off again and away I fly.

By: Sharon Jones