Ode to a Journey to Wyoming

One day I awoke to prepare once again

To go on journey to visit my friend.

I have traveled this same route several years ago

But the adventure of going on a trip never grows old.

 twice I have endeavored on this solo journey of

Traveling from Minnesota to the land of Wyoming.

The familiar towns and landmarks along the way

Are dear old companions who greet me and wave

While silently proclaiming, “Yes we are still here;

So glad to see you travel our way this year.”

I passed through several small towns and by farmsteads too

And oh my, Lake Heron is a splendid sea of blue.

I drove by several state parks along the way

And note, “I must visit there on another day.”

The morning was full of bright, illuminating sunshine

As I drove along the interstate crossing the first state line.

Onward I drove with my intent eyes peering into the horizon

As I joyfully anticipated revisiting my high school friend.

And lo, how we both know that we don’t visit enough

As times can be hard and cost of travel just too much.

With the consistent rain through the summer months,

The ground has remained emerald green; deep and lush.

For usually, the further I journeyed westward from home,

The atmosphere became more and more arid while I drove.

But on this trek the land remained moist and green much longer

And I chose to enjoy this and not ponder and wonder.

So forward I drove and gladly journeyed

Into the horizon; a vast green and blue sea.

Near the end of the day my traveling was done

As I paused beneath the vaulted ceiling of a glowing sun.

While it slid down settling in the distant west,

I knew it was time for a long night rest.

I opted to stay at on a hilltop of green sloped wonder

In a motel overlooking the winding Missouri River.

For the wide flowing blue stream curved this way and that

With an iron scalloped bridge uniting one land mass to the next.

Next morning arrived and soon I was on the road

Anticipating new places to see and sights to behold.

“I can’t help it,” I chided myself with a frown,

“I must visit once again that old ghost town.”

Soon I found the right off-ramp and pulled in

And found myself wandering the old streets again.

I strolled past the old schoolhouse and the church too

Wondering what life was like back in say…1882.

I drove on nearing the Wyoming border

And noticed the rugged mountains coming closer.

After another long day’s drive,

To my friend’s house, I finally arrived.

I was there for a week, treasuring each day;

And we embarked on a few adventures along the way.

Such a sweet time to spend with a dear friend,

That my heart ached with sadness at the week’s end.

Turning around I started the long journey home

Thankful for friendship which nourished my soul.

So now, ode to a Journey I took to Wyoming,

I have a new treasure of memories inside of me.