My son
19 years old
morning hash brown person
runner of all foods on order
loving it
I know it's three syllables at the end but I had to do the slogan "loving it"
My buddy Harley never smiles
Hard to know what’s on his mind.
At times Harley’s not such an enigma.
Come dinner time he’ll surely remind you.
When he’s earned treats he’ll nudge you.
Time for his business? He’ll jingle chimes.
Harley hates winter and lets you know:
His walks are cut short, quick in-and-out.
Harley’s not much of a guard dog,
He’s much too friendly, laid-back and easygoing.
He’s quiet and barely vocal,
Might not bark to save his life.
Harley’s always so excited to see me
He’s got this dance that he performs.
Harley’s the most genuine and wonderful companion
There’ll never be anyone more delightfully affectionate.
AP: 2nd place 2025
Seymour was sad that everyone generalized his kind
They do not think I hear, but it hurts, I truly do mind
They say we are slow, because we are snails you see
He did not have to tell me, said his Grandma Vee
She knew that the world made fun of the way they moved
In her day she had been a jitter bug dancer, who really could groove
But now she was just an old snail woman, alone in her chair.
But she knew Seymour did care, yes, her Seymour did care.
I think I will get a cycle and ride away good and fast.
Grandma smiled at his enthusiasm remembering her past.
She opened the garage, where inside sat her own Harley D.
Delighting Seymour when she said “you can have it for free”.
We were waiting for Grandma, thought she would bring an Uber
Knowing Gram, said Jack, she might come down the stream in a tube-r.
We were watching to the east, but she came flying in on the right.
Riding her new Harley, which somehow felt just right.
Took My New Harley For A Morning Spin
I found a treasure chest without a key
It was full of hope, ocean and blue sea
A few gems, some golden coins sprinkled in
Much other loot my head began to spin.
Map inside showing cave full with gold crowns
Just over paradise, miles west of town
Rose early to wander out get that loot
Put on my gear and my old hiking boots.
Found hidden cave and sauntered on in
There lay skeletons of seven dead men
Appears it 'twas a robber's getaway
I took the whole load that fortunate day.
I woke with the bright sun shining right in
Took my new Harley for a morning spin
Might as well as it was but a big dream
Well, I have lottery ticket to dream.
Robert J. Lindley, 18 verse Sonnet
March
Note. Written on March 9TH, 1973,
I was 19 years and 4 days old then.
I love the sound of the name Dream Machine,
It sounds like a Harley all painted and mean,
And ridden by bikers who are all dressed in leather,
Who ride around proudly in sunshiny weather.
But I doubt that a motor bike’s what you are getting,
To take one in bed would cause anguish and sweating,
And in truth it wouldn’t help with your sleeping at all
In fact the ambulance might get a call,
So I have to conclude that the name is misleading,
In fact the machine simply helps with your breathing
nothing holds him back
no worries, no stress just life
wild and free he is
Harley James
my 15 yr. old son
Motorcycle riders terrify me.
I am so afraid I will hurt one.
Just a little slide on water or ice,
And my car could really hurt him badly.
Which would make my life turn fast and sadly.
I see them in my rearview mirror,
And I clench my teeth in solid fear.
I give them a wide berth, after they pass, and are now ahead.
Sending them prayers, not wanting to hear that they are dead.
But six others cars fill in that gap, making me think of his mother dear.
How will she feel when she gets the news? How will she hear?
For all motorcycle riders have mothers, and they are all feeling badly
That their sons are riding their way to their death, and most of them gladly.
When you wake up in the morning
And it's beautiful outside
You spiffy up your Harley
Because you want to take a ride
Your woman gets excited
Because she wants to get a taste
Of her riding on the back seat
With her arms around your waist
You dress up in your leathers
And your belts, boots, and gloves
And you get ready to go riding
On that awesome thing you love
You buckle up your helmets
And put your feet down on the peddle
Then you cruise on down the highway
On your shiny piece of metal
As you're motoring down the highway
With your hands upon the bars
You get looks from all the people
Who are driving in their cars
After a joy ride through the mountains
You then pull up to your home
And you're thrilled because you've been riding
On your pretty piece of chrome
"Long May You Ride"
Dedicated to my friend DanO
Straddling iron beast
Rumbling pipes, vibrating seat
pavement disappears
wind whisking troubles away
Riding, soaking up some rays
The Harley Davidson and me
Hover bikes of the future
Really not for me
Give me wheels upon the ground
I want my Harley D
My veins all feel the power
When the engine starts to yell
Cos now I am an Angel
An Angel here from hell
Gridlocked on the highway
But that don’t bother me
I just rev the mighty engine
And ride my Harley D
The humdrum life is not my way
Nor the semi-detached abode
I’ll stop a day in a little town
Then I’ll hit the road
I was born to be a badass
My life so wild and free
I can catch the very wind
When I ride my Harley D
I’m an independent spirit
As I ride my motorbike
The sun’s the days companion
The stars my roof at night
His little silhouette
follows me from room to room
the curiosity kills him
and he takes the vacumn
from my hand
trying to help with housework
one day he will be a good helper
and little chef
MY HARLEY
*********
(M) mount my Harley made of metal
(O) on its wide saddle seat I will settle
(T) taking the throttle into my hand
(O) opening it up at my command
(R) Riding and leaning it at my bidding
(C) curves sharp are waiting to be ridden
(Y) yes I feel the pounding in my heart
(C) cruising many highways from the start
(L) live to ride is what I always say
(E) every single sunny summer day
I never dreamed, I would see God riding a Harley
As fast as he goes it's called Godspeed
No matter what area you live in
He is there to help you, indeed
He goes through towns and cities,
Disguised like a man.
Just finding people,
Who really need a hand.
After awhile, he heads back on the road,
Listening to people, who are in need.
Checks on everything He created,
For He is the one, that planted the seed.
I love my Harley
Riding along
Hair blowing in the breeze
With the greatest of ease
Sun shining
Hot and wet
Sitting on my Harley
With a look of content
The breeze is cool
Upon my neck
My hand upon the handle
Riding my Harley
Racing down the street
Moving to the beat
My heart is racing
A sound so sweet
Around the curves
The bends are coming near
Can you see the mountains?
I love my Harley
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