Taking a trip to strange place
|This past summer I felt free enough to leave my world behind,
I waxed and buffed my '03 'Stang until the red paint shined,
The next day I beheld the sight of a bright and hazy morn,
While leaving town I squealed the wheels and laid upon the horn.
Would my goals be hindered by the fear I most abhor?
To ponder the uncertainty of the path that stretched before,
Inside of a worn-out travel guide, the options fate may take,
From home I traveled north toward Michigan's greatest lake.
At dusk, I stopped at an inn, old-fashioned and delightful,
The artifacts scattered inside proved to be insightful,
My philosophy, so clear to me, the yearning for a taste,
Of the burden my forefathers bore, I've not one hour to waste.
Everything seemed polished clean, soon I found the kitchen,
Something scented delicately come wafting from the oven,
Shouts went lame for no one came to provide me needed aid,
Unfortunately, I wasn't wise enough to know to be afraid.
Then I recalled reading about cults of Amish witches,
They'd become invisible to steal away one's riches,
What's so bizarre I went to my car, I couldn't believe my eyes,
My Ford had been replaced by a horse and buggy surprise!
It took a month to return to the streets of my hometown,
Shopping for grain along the way, feeling like a clown,
People would stare, but I declare I've learned a thing or two,
It's no fun when on the run and old Bessie throws a shoe!