Steel and Lace Curtains

This life is a journey, a passing. And it's a hard go alone. We meet many in the way and must choose if their wave sincere and their intentions well founded. Usually, we offer trust being the naive creatures that we are. Sometimes, it is perhaps ourselves that wax our cars and hide our stains in the glitter. I guess that's where forgiveness comes in. I try to be honest but the puzzle is complex and the road winding. Self preservation is somewhere in the headlights glare.

tracing along
to the highway's blend
of steel, and curtains of lace.
enchanting my way
to the tunnels delight
beyond this life's embrace

pushing the curves
to the wind's gentle pull
and watching it all disappear,
if only my life
were as simple as this
just ignore the tracks in the mirror

the guardrails keep my slumber
while the signs narrate the song
to passing trains and aero planes
to movie stars and bad refrains
to all that pass along

God what falseness and treachery
the headlights hide in glare
we meet upon the highway
hello in such a fine way
ignoring the doubts beware

I know the woman who waits on the hill
tending her flowered garden
have you met her? really you should.
she speaks so well of you
a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend
said all she says is true

I know a man who lives down the lane
whose cows give milk and butter
he told me of you and the things that you do
he said stop on by, his butter to try
he's known for his wisdom and never would lie
his eyes such an honest blue

what a road, what a passing
what by ways we choose
we sport up our wheels
and aim for the stars
make our sweet deals
on little sports cars
to drive on roads of steel
and lace curtains

we hide in the glare
of going no where
and brag of what's been
back when and back then
and all seem happy to accept
what told we should see

false names and no address
to protect us from redress
signs that wink
and brights that blink
as careen along the cliffs
we fly and sing

we put on and we go
to places out there
far away places with far away faces
strangers with strange ways
yet familiar to us
and in them we search for ourselves.

of that we not fond
we deny and pass by,
to the next curve and hill and even beyond
but the road catches up
and denial leaves trace
on highways of steel
and curtains of lace

~Rick