AND ALONG CAME MARY. THE ROAD TO MANY THINGS. At some point its in my biographee, Before I knew we were descendants of the chimpanzee, Back when it took weeks for a simple letter to reach its addressee, Long before i understood the role of an apostrophy, Or a writer called Tennessee, New nothing about tax-free and when I Wept for a man called Kennedy. There was a road I decree, that came to answer my summers’ plea, that with its arrival, set my soul and my heart free. It used to be a stretch of tracks that befell, The same things as the locomotives’ decibel, And the fading railroads personnel, Propelled out by its final death-bell, All aboard, Welcome to Graveyard Hell! Greased, blackened tracks and iron hardshell, Replaced by a freshly paved asphalts smell, Baking in the heat of a summers swell, Waking the word freedom and its welcome yell, Next there’ll be plumbing to replace the pump and well, and Cars and bikes on a welcome carousel, From town and back to our outpost under our beaming stars sentinel, Laughing, while straining under the vinyl weight of the latest 45s, Paperback books on the Beatles, the Stones, and their British lives, New scores of soda, lemon-lime, orange, and cherry, and if we got there fast enough,even strawberry brought by the road whose shoulders would guide us And by our new found desires that would encourage and drive us, To summer girls by the locks and our deep canal dives, The new road to ‘Caygeon opened our eyes, To the hormones and testosterone, erupting......in our thighs, And all the things a newly found freedom implies. Flexing our muscles dueling with cornelle, Silly in our own boyish cockerel, Hoping to impress the girl from la province belle, Staying in a cottage in parallel, Of that golden aquarelle, She was the so cute, the softest mademoiselle, With breath, surely, as sweet as caramel, Venus rising, from the Sturgeons’ waters, on a floating seashell. Then the summers spell, broken with one last look, and bade farewell, to august, the road and to my own bagatelle, When i arrived as a boy and left, not to my own downward knell But to the sound of freedom and its mighty, blossom bell! ------------ beresford mitchell september 13 2014 coconut grove miami florida
Posted on: Sat, 13 Sep 2014 18:38:04 +0000
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