Going My Way

On the road to somewhere else
in someone else’s truck
a woman with a gypsy soul
balancing her luck,
At the counter, at a diner
eating eggs and bacon
ask her if the stool beside
her is available, or taken,

Sit down, look around
she plays with her food
order something from the list
somewhat in the mood,
Conversation with a stranger
this lady, I will find
has a story, which she tells
has lots on her mind,

Past romances, past last dances
two zillion asphalt miles
she tells me her story
it seems, her share of trials,
And she has an attitude
sure to make one smile
around the next corner
just another mile,

A pot of gold, to behold
be there in a bit
hard not to love
such a woman, a perfect fit,
We finish up our eating
a second cup of brew
she asks where I’m going
I answer: hell, with you …