Silver Beast

I ride the wind
on my silver beast,
riding high on a paved retreat.

They say I’m not worthy
of such a treat
but I smile and wink
as I kick the beast.

The beast and I
have rode long and hard.
We know we are worthy
as we fly on by.

We fly so high
we can look down and see
those who smirked
were wanna-be’s.

A simple grin
and a wave goodbye
off again and away I fly.

By: Sharon Jones

About This Poem

Last Few Words: I wrote this poem for my brother who had a silver Harley. Sadly he has passed away from cancer.

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?

Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism

Editing Stage: Not actively editing