the Woman, the old Fart and the Road…

 

There once was an old timer, and he had a gal he loved so much…
Wherever he went, she was there by his side…for Sturgis, Laconia and such…
Happily they rode free…and loved each other complete…
His strong arms guiding them, her hands buried beneath his seat…
Every few hours or so, they’d stop to go, then it’s back to the open road…
A welcome jaunt same time every year, til one day his spokes were slowed…
Before setting off one day, he noticed her eyes were growing dim…
” a hospital? “… he suggested…but ” no…” she only wanted to ride behind him…
So they went along their way, blending one state into the next…
When suddenly across the road, a fallen tree became their test…
He rode up onto the shoulder and made his way around…
Speaking to his rear, it reached her dying ear, but she couldn’t make a sound…
Her blood rising into her mouth, her cancer she did spit…
But it did no good as she held on for life, and was slipping off of it…
The car behind them saw her slump and beeped for all he was worth…
Riding along-side and pointing him over, he didn’t understand at first…
Until the man yelled, ” HER!!!…” then he got the gist and pulled over with a sudden halt…
He swung his leg over and got off just in time to save her from the asphalt…
” honey you ok?…” pacing to and fro…and poring over her with a tear…
He didn’t know what else to say, but ” thanks…” as he looked up at the man in fear…
He said to the helpless rider…” the ambulance is on the way…are you ok?…” …
“…not til she’s alright enough to ride again…that’s been our plan since i don’t know when…” …

They lifted her and took her away…he followed close because he didn’t know the way…
As he trailed them, he found the words to offer up a prayer to a god he wasn’t even sure was there…
Standing by her bed, he gently stroked her head…fearful that her time was through…
She’s sick and tells him she’s dying…” i didn’t want to upset you…” …
It’s been three months she’s been spitting up blood and there’s nothing good to tell…
Now he stares at the floor and hangs his head as he follows her through Hell…
For two months or maybe three, he hasn’t had a ride…
His Harley’s out there calling him but the fire’s gone from his eyes…

He’s by her side when she’s led back home by the angels to the sky…
And all those tears that were stuck in his throat are rusted drops of ” WHY??!!!…” …
He sold his ride for a decent price to help pay for her plot…
The money he has when all is done doesn’t add up to a lot…
But it will see him through til the day he wants to breathe again…
Working all day, drinking all night since she finally up and went…
” …maybe another ride will help me feel better…i tend to doubt it, and i’ll never forget her…
I know for sure i can find me a honey, but she could never fill her seat…
For no other girl in the whole of the world could make me feel so complete…”…

“…maybe i’ll buy an old Indian…or even another Harley…whatever it is it just won’t be the same…
Guess it doesn’t matter the model, make or name…
I’ll travel the world with you floating behind me wherever we wander…
A little ashamed by my new make model and name…your absence made the fart go Honda…