Do you remember
the climb?
short or not,
shall we not?
Remember the trip up,
Longonot,
can we not, did we not?
Remember fooling around,
In that old farmhouse,
will we not, sexy tot,
love my hot
sexy pot?
Let him have the car keys dear,
Let him go to Longonot.
♦picture – Youth and Cars – WebstockPro
*Longonot is a dormant Volcano in Kenya, a day’s getaway for many*
evocative short poetry – words move
Maybe, just maybe, I can get a “rise” out of you yet! You have been nominated for an award:
http://paulatohlinecalhoun1951.wordpress.com/2013/02/20/dearest/
I love it, of course! I miss you. . .hope all is well.
Mine was the old trestle between the river & the lyme pits. You could get to the marsh from the tracks, and the trestle was a bit of a waystation on the way to adventure. life awaits. discover.
intriguing…it speaks to my teen years…the adventure…but also the conundrum of her letting him go as well….
Yeah… I’m smiling…
How beautiful and familiar. Everyone has a Longonot, it just won’t necessarily be a volcano. Mine was the steps of an old church under the trestle in Astoria, N.Y. You’re wonderful Kolembo.:)