On the Road
Upon that dusty road of yesteryear
along the river now but a stream
I hear the passing of an age it seems
and see the vanished fading I fear
I cross the ancient bridge and follow on
to some distant destination unseen
where I may be renewed above the mean
and so I travel to that distant dawn
The road is oft long and lonely bent
and I weary at the miles I have crossed
wondering to reclaim the memories lost
along the well worn road I’m sent
So lovely.....how true are those words.
Wonderful, Johnn.
I hope you don’t mind that I’ve saved your poem for future use.
Reminds me of an old saying ...
It is not what you find along the road;
It is what you find at the end
Wow.... very pensive. Thank you, WayzataJOHNN.