Summer Drive
With the top off, doors gone,
Jeep speeding down the highway
my hair flies backwards and forwards
constantly whipping my face.
Jeep speeding down the highway
my hair flies backwards and forwards
constantly whipping my face.
But, I don't care.
The sun beats down
kissing my bare arms
until they resemble strawberries and cream.
I answer the siren call rising from the road before
-traveling hot paved Highways;
woodsy and parched earthy trails.
All things, seem less
compared to panoramic country sides.
© Susan Elliott, copyright
* To read more poetry by Susan Elliott, please visit Susan's Poetic Blogosphere. Visit the Susan Elliott, Author page on Facebook.
Published by Susan Elliott
Susan Elliott's poetry has appeared in both print and online formats. Susan has recently published her first two Kindle books: Wandering Through a Barely Functional Mind and Ink Blots on Paper. View profile
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4 Comments
Post a CommentNice one!
Absolutely true, nothing compares to 'panoramic country views', love this :)
Love the "resemble strawberries and cream" line. Not so good to be outside today in the UK. A funny smell in the air, and I think it's the volcanic ash descending...
Awesome poem, my dear!