Ode to my Iron Steed
My iron steed, clad in black denim and laced with chrome
You scowl at me in defiance and dare me to hope on
You promise speed and flight, adventure of the road
The thrill of the unknown and dust upon my load.
And to your beckoning call I run, breathless with each leap,
Until I saddle upon your deep and rugged seat.
You start up with a growl and then bellow like a bull.
I gently roll the throttle and your reply is throaty and full.
The exhaust pipes start to clatter and you begin to snort
Your way of telling that you’re anxious and ready to bolt
I kick you into gear and rumble off in grace,
The open road awaits us and embraces us with haste.
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