The End

Early morning before dawn
Moon appeared above the lawn
Early riser smart and fine
Boy of North sat on the line 

Concerned he looked at the sky
As knife he sharpened his right eye
His ears heard sounds from up above
As light began to show the dove

In sunrise colors of the day
Like golden colored pretty hay
The dove flew quickly to the bay
And landed on the bridge that’s gray

The voice that spoke came from the moon
This was in the month of June 
The boy heard everything that day
And kept his promise at the bay

That one day he would cross again
Without hardships and the drain
Over the line from North to South 
With a flower in his mouth 

Down the South there is a girl
Watching sun arise and twirl
She sang a song with heavy heart
Eating ice cream that is tart

Then boy appeared out of the bay
Crossing bridge that’s long and gray
Following the dove of gold
He fell onto girl’s feet so bold

She smiled looking down 
As he watched her sparkling gown
He took her hand and walked away
Towards the sunset at the bay

This is a story of the end
Take heed all those who cannot bend
It’s time to rise and take a side
The gap is long and super wide

This poem reflects my thoughts this evening. It is mostly metaphorical, and it is intertwined with mysteries from my thoughts.

Photo form the weekend ride. This is my beautiful Manhattan Beach.

Categories: Dream, PoetryTags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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