OFF NINETY WEST IN SYRACUSE FIVE MILES NORTH OF WESTVALE
I HAD EIGHTEEN INCHES OF WESTCOAST WRAPPED IN GOLDEN LACE
AS I DAWNED MY HOOKS AND WRAPPED WITHIN MY BASHLIN 88
I GLARED AT THE FORTY FOOT HIGHLINE POLE LAUGHING IN MY FACE
FUELED BY 23 YEARS OF LIFE AND SEVENTY YEARS OF PAIN
BACKED WITH LIONS FEARLESS HEART I'M READY ONCE AGAIN
AS THE MONSTROUS POLELINE SOLDIER CALLS OUT TO CHALLENGE ME
I CURLED MY LIP AND SQUINTED MY EYES THE BATTLE SHALL NOW BEGIN
WITH A HATEFUL EVIL KILLERS STARE MY HOOKS PIERCE THROUGH THE WOOD
AS I FORGE MY WAY WITH POWERFUL SKILL CLOSER TO THE SKY
EVERY FOOT OF ELEVATION EARNS A LESSON FOR MY SOUL
EVERY LESSON LEARNED IS WORTH IT'S PRECIOUS WEIGHT IN GOLD
THE RAIN SHALL COOL THE BURNING SUN
THAT MELTS THE FREEZING SNOW
THAT LIES UPON THE OPEN ROAD AS THE MIGHTY RIVER FLOWS
THE LEAVES THAT FALL FROM THE TALL OAK TREE
LAND SOFTLY UPON THE DYING GRASS
BEING CAPTURED BY A HOWLING WIND
TO LET ANOTHER YEAR GO PAST
A MEMORY EARNED OF A BATTLE WON
IS ONE THAT SHALL FOREVER AND ALWAYS LAST
( thanks for sharing my poetry with me , hope you enjoyed it , later )
