Traveling along dark roads and rusted rails,
Nothing but dust along life’s trails,
Stories told, places seen and plenty of tears,
Along with dreams.
Pulled then pushed,
Water stained, polished and brushed,
These boots remain,
Traveling along dark roads and rusted rails.
Soles of leather and an arch of wood,
This old guitar beside me stood,
Never blistered or left me scars,
When songs I’d sing in sold out bars.
A dancer’s dream two steps, one ale,
Always ready this bridals veil,
A running start, stories told,
These old worn boots warmed cold toes,
Traveling along dark roads and rusted rails,
Long walks we’ve had, hitched many a ride
Squeeze box battered hung by my side
A stage in lights engaged with songs
The nights lost chorus a tad too long
Among those eager to find the night
Traveling along dark roads and rusted rails
Train whistles howl in the dead of the night,
Queen Ann’s signal they blow,
The neon sign lights sputtering and bright
A place to rest before dawns flight
Long miles from home now out of sight
Traveling along dark roads and rusted rails.
Solidly stitched with three-inch heels,
Black from soot, Tanned with steel,
Rest beside my bed each night,
Forever dodging a brothel fight,
These friends I wear they’ve never failed,
To keep me moving,
Along life’s roads,
And lonely dusty trails.
Johnny – Your poems tug at my heart is such a wonderful way. So glad we met you n this on-line neighborhood.
I am as well Len and thank you for your kind comment! J
You have to know how much I love this one. Great story my friend. Spent lots of time riding and walking the rails
Kinda patterned it after the many conversations we’ve had and Chuck Cannons old boots.. Thank you my long lost brother.