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HARLEY - POETRY
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 "HARLEY-DAVIDSON HOGS"                      

    Hog is the name bikers call us                            
    American-made, different and rare                  
    Riders shinning us; making a fuss                    
    Letting our chrome reflect and glare                  
    Each of us various colors and styles             
    Yearning to roll and put on the miles.                


    Dreaming of the season to arrive                       
    Anxious for our first spring day                         
    Va-room, start me, bring me alive                      
     Ignite my engine, we're on our way                  
    Drive me, ride me, down the road                     
    Showing off my unique class                               
    Opening my choke; my pipes bel-lowed       
    Never forgetting to give me gas.                       


    Hanging inside on long winter nights             
    Open the garage doors, set me free                
    Give me the road, turn on my lights         
    Standing proud since 1903.                       
                                           Copyright ©2001   (by AMY)
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United Clique

The bond of bikers will never part,
For they would always understand.
Brotherhood held within the heart,
Always lending a helping hand.

Their rodeos are all fun and games;
With money raised for a needed cause.
They reach out and obtain their aim;
Helping children is their own applause.

Freedom being the ultimate goal;
In the wind, free as a bird.
Clearing the mind, cleansing the soul;
Thunder being the only sound heard.

The rumble makes them feel alive,
When one or twenty wheels by.
The beauty of the chrome thrives,
Being driven by a cool guy.

Leather jackets and long hair,
Tattoos which may be bizarre.
They are judged, but they don't care.
They know who they really are.

Copyright ©2001     (by AMY)

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"Bikers Dream"

The first spring day is the best
Bringing your bike out to ride.
Putting on your leather vest
Looking at the world outside.
The sunlight reflecting the chrome
The wind blowing through your hair.
With no particular place to roam
Your thoughts at ease, without a care.
Riding by old hangout spots
Hoping to see old bros.
The guys you never forgot
Over winters' ten foot snow.
You notice a familiar bike
Before you know, there's ten more.
Adrenaline builds, you are psyched.
The gangs all here, it's time to roar.
Waiting for this day to arrive
Seemed endless and far away.
For cruisin' makes you feel alive
Being a biker is the only way!

Copyright ©2001   (by AMY)

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"Harley Healing"


When you have a problem, you can't cope
The answer isn't alcohal or dope
It isn't fighting or running to hide
Just hop on your Harley, and go for a ride.

The wind will help clear your mind
Perhaps a solution, you will find
The freedom being away from it all
Will help you see, you won't fall.

Your mind wanders to the road ahead
Making you realize, life's good instead
Thinking only of the sights you see
Forgetting that you're in agony.

The sky up above, the mountains in view
Your friends riding alongside you
So take my advice, go for a ride
For your Harley is your only guide.

Copyright ©2001   (by AMY)

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