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Poetry: Memories

Journey

Amy and I were good traveling companions
We lay down on the top of the bedspread
Opened the book and went on a journey;
I in my blue jeans,
She in her nightgown and sleepy eyes

We went to distant, exotic places with strange names
Plowed fields and spied wolves and Indians
We cut giant trees from the forest
Shivered in the cold of winter
Felt hunger, pain and joy

We visited with people we knew quite well
Wishing that the visit
Did not have to be over so soon
But it was time to disembark
And I closed the book, with a marker in it

I pulled the covers up to her chin,
Gave her a kiss goodnight
And dimmed the lights
Hoping that tomorrow
We could journey again
And visit our friends in far places

Learn more about this author, Wayne Rideout.
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