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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2152555
I love to drive to Bossardsville,with Matthew by my side-there is no finer ride.
The Drive To Bossardsville

I took a drive through Bossardsville,
To view the mount and sky.
The views of tree and rolling hill,
It bests the views nearby.

The bowl-ish green,
the smoky mist,
Makes one feel reborn.
The stony cottages sun-kissed
That greet you in the morn

It seems a magic little charm
so it sits untouched by time
While elsewhere there is garish sprawl
That I can do without just fine

And when the pace of modern day
requires a scenic jaunt,
I drive the way to Bossardsville
Where timeless paths still haunt

When I feel a need of kin
to come along for ride?
I pick clever, pensive Matthew
to cheer me at my side

The silly stories we play at
of Colonial fictionary men
Like Jiggery Jaggers, whose caviat
Was stealing from foolish women

Rest stops along the merry way
are not neccessary
For we bring our own picnic tray
of delicate sandwiches and tea

We watch the roads go rolling past
swirling in the mirror behind
And later when back at home at last
The details we'll gladly rewind

I know the cure for doldrum days
It rests along the roads
The roads to lovely Bossardsville
Where every care unloads

So let us now procede
I have my keys in hand
You have but to say the word
Your wish is my command

I do not need prodding much
Of convincing there's no need be
There is no other pleasure such
As a Bossardsville drive for me!
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