Hurry Up, Spring

Hurry up, spring, I need a ride.
I need to smell the wheat and rye,
To sense the roses and mountain flowers up high.
I long to visit the colors of the spring
And do what I like to call my thing.

Start the Harley and head down the road,
Our minds in a vicarious mode,

With my lady on the back,
Knowing we are on a true track.
Ours is a mission of omission,
Forgetting all without permission,

Enjoying the outdoors,
It is Harley time to explore.
What a way to bring in the spring!
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Passages From 
Her Cards
Travels with the
Wild Man Vol. 11
Collection of Poems
Travels with the 
Wild Man Vol. 1
Odes to
Life and Love

The Lonely Biker

Living in
Costa Rica
Travels with the 
Wild Man Vol.III
Travels with the 
Wild Man Vol.IV


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