A morning ride with them...The Boys...

With the drizzle falling fine
Stalking him like She always does
Specially when he is on the road...
And the sky so love laden
Like his favorite bard's favored clime...
And the trees so so wet and drenched
As if they longed for that wet
All over their Holy state...
And the streets cool...wet the same
Shining bright...washed and by flowery aroma freshened...
he tapped soft
On his mp3 memory card small...
Micro type...
But holding thirty two gigabytes
Of songs...
And hit straight The Boys Four...
Those boys in black jackets coupled with white shirts and black boots...
Those boys who rewrote the history of Love and love
And life...
And Life...
And Time
And time...

he bowed to-
The Boys...who being just wonderous...
just jovial...
magnanimous... fiery...
icy cold...
Young and old...
So so herculean bold...
rewrote...
All...

Only by their songs...

And ...
They sang out loud...
As if blessing him...
They sang out
Into his soul...
'if there's anything that you want
If there's anything I can do...
Just call on Me...'

he smiled...
he loved instant
The road...
The slippery shiny path...
The drizzle...
And of course...
his blue blue horse...

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