A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE

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Poem Commentary

Wrote this on a Friday late night ride on my hog, all alone, under the stars, just the way I liked it. I pulled over and cut the engine by a beautiful bay, reflecting the moon and stars above, glistening and twinkling in a mirrored image. I climbed onto the rock jetty and relaxed in the cool refreshing sea air, recording what I heard and saw on a pad that I kept for just such an occasion in my ol' weathered leather saddle bags. A perfect night which could not have been improved upon. After an hour or so I kick started the beast an rumbled on into the night.

A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE

Climbing off my Harley,  by a coastal corridoor,

and sittin on the jetty.............. A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE;



Water barely moving, seaweed covering shore,

stars high in the heavens…………A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE;

 

Lights across the bay, headlights, taillights tour

along the lighted causeway.……..A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE;

 

Crickets close at right, a planes distant engine roar,

lighthouse far off left............ A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE;

 

The boats out in the bay, sailboats, clam boats, more,

Crab lights beam reflection.………A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE;

 

Bridge lights a twinkle, across the mighty span they soar,

the air so crisp and cool............. A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE;

 

The night so peaceful and quiet, to sit here is no chore,

and gaze through all the stillness...........of this FRIDAY NIGHTS LONELY LURE.

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Teardrops commented on A QUIET NIGHTS LONELY LURE

02-21-2011

I have a place I go to fish that gives me the same feeling . I loved this poem you can see your heart in this one great write Marie

Whiskers

02/21/2011

Thanks for catching up with my work tonight. Some times you just have to stop somewhere because it does feel just right. It's usually the same reason it's hard to leave too, unless you have another passion driving you on (or in my case riding on it). Blessings, Whiskers.

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

Whiskers’s Poems (76)

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