The biking begins : long roads and lady's fingers
The new year has brought to me my new steed. Claddings of hide and steel keep me from eroding away at a weekend outing. Not like many friends who have set out to conquer that final frontier ; that of starting a family and running one. I for one seem to be the perpetual student along with some other ball-less loser who didnt do anything worth his/her while at the right time.
In moments astride that lovely beast, along one of the straightest of B-roads , it is very common to lapse into reverie of the lady's fingers.
How long ago , one hunchback looked upon a cloaked beauty. As she strode past him in the afternoon sun blazing brighter than the one in the sky. His outstretched hands only grabbing the air around her as she noiselessy passed him . His animal grunt summoning her attention not to him but to his state of worthlessness. As a gold coin slipped from her fingers into his bowl the glint of gold fading in glory he saw her fingers. How he wished to be that golden ring that embraced them . How he wished to be that paint that adorned her nails ; or much better how he wished for that woman to be his; whose hands would be his to touch, own and cherish.
At last the milling crowd engulfs the last glimpse of the flowing dress and the one gold coin he will never touch and dread like that ring of Saruman. For it has indeed been touched .. by the lady's fingers.
Haltingly the story comes to an end as a drink break draws close and some trucks passing by summon full attention.
After a sip of water and some new songs in my earphones. The whistling wind in the helmet and the whoosh of the engine beneath start a story of their own.
The distant sinking sun glinting across my glasses and i notice some merrymaking car drivers not passing me.. maybe
i must be to them what most were to me : driving off into the sunset to live a life of dreams and more...
[ yet to come ... travels travails and travailleurs] ;)
have fun ,stay warm and drive safely...
Adios
In moments astride that lovely beast, along one of the straightest of B-roads , it is very common to lapse into reverie of the lady's fingers.
How long ago , one hunchback looked upon a cloaked beauty. As she strode past him in the afternoon sun blazing brighter than the one in the sky. His outstretched hands only grabbing the air around her as she noiselessy passed him . His animal grunt summoning her attention not to him but to his state of worthlessness. As a gold coin slipped from her fingers into his bowl the glint of gold fading in glory he saw her fingers. How he wished to be that golden ring that embraced them . How he wished to be that paint that adorned her nails ; or much better how he wished for that woman to be his; whose hands would be his to touch, own and cherish.
At last the milling crowd engulfs the last glimpse of the flowing dress and the one gold coin he will never touch and dread like that ring of Saruman. For it has indeed been touched .. by the lady's fingers.
Haltingly the story comes to an end as a drink break draws close and some trucks passing by summon full attention.
After a sip of water and some new songs in my earphones. The whistling wind in the helmet and the whoosh of the engine beneath start a story of their own.
The distant sinking sun glinting across my glasses and i notice some merrymaking car drivers not passing me.. maybe
i must be to them what most were to me : driving off into the sunset to live a life of dreams and more...
[ yet to come ... travels travails and travailleurs] ;)
have fun ,stay warm and drive safely...
Adios
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