Poetry

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THE GOLDEN ROAD

He wondered as a vagabond roaming the long dessert highway
Always beginning his journey hitting the road early at dawn
For as far as the eyes can see, nothing, nothing he would say
Open dessert and sand with it’s hot winding black roadway.

Continuous and unending is his road from horizon back to him
Painted on the highway an on going broken white line
This kind of work out requires extreme endurance not at a gym
His journey makes him a prisoner to his own quite mind.

As the top of the hill that lays just ahead is his lonely road
Again to the right he looks then to the left and see’s no end
Does he quit and disappoint his promise and his code?
Or does he press forward, his journey until it’s end?

Not a vagabond is he, no not at all I must say
A quest, a dare and challenge he walks for miles
The road to gold and to fame lies this way
Six more months are the Olympic Trials.

Written by Dr. Rick McGrath, Ph.D.

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