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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=399617" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Long Journey</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Motorcycling along <br>the N1 freeway<br>from Pretoria in the north to Cape Town</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the flaming sun rises over the horizon<br>small like a ripe apricot<br>while its dimensions gets larger</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and then tomato red<br>a little later it turns orange and like a ripe fruit<br>hangs untouchable up on the sky</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and corn fields, fences and trees<br>fly past almost blurring<br>in the twilight sketched like pencil drawings</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and the sun like a huge pit being spitted<br>crosses the sky<br>changes to yellow and then to white hot</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and the sky turns from dusk grey<br>to bright blue<br>and later to a darker hue</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and the hot wind bristles<br>as if with loving fingers<br>touching and stroking your whole body</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and in the early fresh morning<br>you draw in at a garage, <br>make a pit stop, to check the oil, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">to fill your motorcycle up<br>and have a breakfast<br>at a Wimpy roadhouse</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and the smell of fuel<br>hangs in the air<br>and you find children there</div><div style="margin:10px 0">looking with huge curious eyes<br>at your motorbike<br>and gazing at you, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">as if a hero character<br>has just walk right out<br>of a cartoon magazine</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and you remove your helmet<br>take off your leather gloves<br>visit the loo where a guy or two</div><div style="margin:10px 0">looks at you and comments<br>on your motorcycle, your leather jacket<br>the weather and the road</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and in the restaurant <br>the waitress pours a Mega coffee, <br>smiles dazzling</div><div style="margin:10px 0">when she puts it on the table<br>with your breakfast of steak, <br>French fries and coke</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and you can swear <br>that there’s a twinkling in her eyes<br>before she walks away</div><div style="margin:10px 0">with a French plate swishing to and thro<br>and buttocks leaving a distinct impression<br>of female grace</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but the sun is drawing water <br>and time is flying, <br>you motorcycle thunders alive</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and you return to the freeway<br>where at speed you pass <br>cars, greyhound busses and trucks</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and the road feels almost without end<br>right through the flat Orange Free State, <br>later the acrid hell hot Karroo</div><div style="margin:10px 0">where you see grazing flocks of sheep<br>like white specks <br>and some windmills </div><div style="margin:10px 0">flashing and reflecting the sun <br>on their huge spinning blades <br>somewhat like lonely landmarks</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and you make some more pit stops<br>to refuel and stretch your legs<br>have another meal </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and just before driving through<br>the last tunnel on top of a hill<br>dusk envolopes the world, the sun dwindles away, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the evening star is just above the horizon<br>and a little later star after star flies pass <br>like leaves in autumn falling from a tree</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and you are free, almost at the end <br>of your journey<br>or maybe you are always just passing by, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">travelling to a new destination<br>with the wind, the sun and sky<br>and some people that you meet on the trip</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and sometimes you go very fast, <br>at other times almost creeping slow<br>until suddenly destiny causes the journey to end.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gert+Strydom">Gert Strydom</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=399617" data-title="The Long Journey de Gert Strydom" data-description="Motorcycling along 
the N1 freeway
from Pretoria in the north to Cape Town

the flaming sun rises over the horizon
small like a ripe apricot
while its dimensions gets larger

and then tomato red
a little later it turns orange and like a ripe fruit..."></div>
</div>
</div>