Friday, September 7, 2012

Bound for late night home...

This mist in the air-
a sense of a slight chill,
The moon soaked by the wet clouds
On the lonely road ghostly feel,
And the mild purr of the engine horsepower under clutch...
the breeze with nightly kisses of fairies from the sky despatched...
And the rapid run of the dots of lights
To the opposite direction...blazing flight...

I am just loving it...
Every bit of this return
Late night home I would meet
At the possible next turn...

I am singing a song way back home
Homeward bound as I am
I am awake running the road
While the world has fallen dumb...

O what a way it is to return home
Late...tired...yet gay and fine...
O what a way it is to see her on wait at the table to dine...

No comments:

Post a Comment

The State Funeral

At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut,  She could not have spoken for  The rare award,  The police have done the th...