fifty mille bornes

how can you deem that you are done
as though a ream of writing’s spun
no carriage rode off toward the sun
no daemons slain no battle won
so clearly hardly halfway done
ah but the journey has been fun

lonely nearly empty cabin
deep in the woods near no junction
unpainted canvas the question
how to fill it asks dripping pen
no attachment no assumption
possibility a vast deep ocean

alluring forest beckons writer
until fingers want to slumber
sleeping on honey laced boulder
nocturnal rocks growing colder
plot and logic turn their shoulder
dream filled night lit in umber

sequestered grove has tales to tell
devoid of stone or sea borne shell
yet through a grotto find a dell
emerge to hear echoed metal knell
draw meager bucket from words’ well
repeated splashings story swell

this journey i trek thirty times
through tangled jungles’ sacred vines
each precious day tally mille bornes
at last appears crested summit
and then the greater peak beyond
peeks out from jolly parting clouds

carry this creation like a parrot
munch upon a carrot banquet
how many trophies would you shun
with the strong knight’s chalice now been stung
dear charon dances with a dwarf
horizons nears celestial wharf

how can you deem that you are done
as though a ream of writing’s spun
no carriage rode off toward the sun
no daemons slain no battle won
so clearly hardly halfway done
ah but the journey has been fun

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About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
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