ROAD TO HAPPINESS
Rain blackens the night and it feels like Hell
My eyes weary, see an impending motel
Its orange neon sign flashes vacancy,
So I run inside its lobby and ring the bell.
I got the key and entered the drab room
Filled with dust and needing a broom
to sweep the cobwebs off the ceiling
and disinfectant to end traces of perfume.
With a growling stomach wanting to be fed,
ignored these conditions and laid on the bed.
I retraced my day's journey, writing down the miles
and closed my eyes to rest my pounding head.
The new day's sun awoke me so back I drove
Passing horse farms and fields of orange groves.
Miles ago was the sign reading
but welcomed me with rain instead of loaves
of cirrus patches of fate.
With my destination complete and stars about to rise
over their door see warm smiles, not a hint of lies.
Feel my contrite heart open for their embrace
and a chorus of tears sing with joyous cries.
CopyrightŠ2009
by Patricia Trish Wentling
My name is Patricia "Trish" Wentling. I've been writing for seven
years. Three of my poems have been published this year with literary magazines.