The Mysterious Biker My summer morning stroll down the road For exercise, fresh air and peace of mind Took me not far from my comfortable abode When I met a man of the easy rider kind Seeming to have bike trouble, I offered my phone, But he told me he stopped his Harley to rest A brawny, clean cut man, on his own Many hard times, his aged face would suggest Briefly exchanging words, he said, """"It's time to ride"""" Like he had a special purpose to travel on I couldn't perceive, no matter how I tried Why I didn't see him as he passed by my front lawn Observing the road, no tracks from the rear A puzzling situation in such an eerie way He went out of sight as he hit the last gear And the mystery of the biker stands to this day. Take a moment to cozy up with Randal Weston's """"Lonesome Echoes."""" His uplifting poems will sweep away your cares and fill you with a sense of peace. From the whimsical """"The Titanic Trio"""" to the warmhearted """"Bygone Days of Summers Past,"""" Weston's melodious words will embrace you with a sense of wonder and spirituality. | Lonesome Echoes by Randal Weston, Paperback | Indigo Chapters