Strange looking, tersely sublime
Accordingly rhyme, strung
like a harp
Rocking guitar spitting gravel
Rolling, rollicking roads of youth

We looked upon the sun
knowing cold days
could be bright and short
but not feel that way
Imprisoned in walls of heat

Dark and starry nights
tripped the light fantastic
Eight miles high
Gravel roads we spun upon
and parked
alongside mossy lakes

Folk lore history
Melodic voiced quite
turned, turned, turned

Listening to crickets chirp
and frogs croak
A little bird chimes in
humming up a buzz

I kiss your pretty face
glowing in moonlight
Strange lips parting
A tongue slipped inside
I tasted the sweetest
like strawberries

Strange looking upon my life
knowing my age
The seasons
would soon catch up with me
even though I never looked back
I was imprisoned in walls
of moments melancholic

I turn up the radio
and guitars rhymed with voices
of long ago
I changed the channel
with a flick of finger

I just wished I had hold
of my fishing pole
I guessed the romance was over
as I listened to the sweet
melodies & lovely rockin’ memories
Graveled roads, rocks flying
Guitars groaned and moaned
I could still feel your heart
beating against mine

kind of like the trout on my line

Copyright © CJ Clark