The Mysterious Biker My summer morning stroll down the road For exercise, fresh air and peace of mind Took me not far from my comfortable abode When I met a man of the easy rider kind Seeming to have bike trouble, I offered my phone, But he told me he stopped his Harley to rest A brawny, clean cut man, on his own Many hard times, his aged face would suggest Briefly exchanging words, he said, "It's time to ride" Like he had a special purpose to travel on I couldn't perceive, no matter how I tried Why I didn't see him as he passed by my front lawn Observing the road, no tracks from the rear A puzzling situation in such an eerie way He went out of sight as he hit the last gear And the mystery of the biker stands to this day. Take a moment to cozy up with Randal Weston's Lonesome Echoes. His uplifting poems will sweep away your cares and fill you with a sense of peace. From the whimsical "The Titanic Trio" to the warmhearted "Bygone Days of Summers Past," Weston's melodious words will embrace you with a sense of wonder and spirituality.
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