Duane rode his Harley Sportster in a couple of days ago. Three of us were out looking at it and Bob commented about a trip to Sturgis for the bike rally and how this couple had come riding into the campground. She was “sittin’ on a fender” and off I went to write ….
Sittin’ on a fender, she rode up to the place
Where gathered, there were people who had ridden across space
And time to come together and celebrate and be
Enjoy themselves and one another. At Sturgis, they were free.
Free of timeclocks, free of ties and free to sing a song
Free to stay up all the night as they were pulled along
With camaraderie and oft-told tales of life’s downs, ups and woes
As they sat themselves beside the fire and warmed cold feet and toes
But I digress, which is to say, my mind does easily roll
To other thoughts which good times bring upon my heart and soul
This started as a reminisce about a woman , she
Provided me with joy of life as she displayed her glee
Came ridin’ up to Curley’s Bar, her arms around her man
Just sittin’ on a fender, a blanket on steel pan
She was a beauty with long, dark hair and eyes so almond brown
Her smile, it lit the graying eve as she stood up, climbed down
The ride they’d shared was off the roads, she’d mud streaked up her back
But she was laughing and having fun, her spirit was intact
It mattered not, for she was with a man who thought her smart
A man who loved her for herself and had a poet’s heart. ©
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