A Highway Song

By H.L. Dowless

A Highway Slong is a work of life experiences and worldwide adventure encounters. In a wander's life, a man of adventure has multitudes of daily encounters. His mind either embraces these encounters in kaleidescopic elegance, or he hangs his head, weeps, and gnashes his teeth. Dare to read these peoms and conclude by asking where your place stands on life's highway.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rowdy Living Press
• Release date: Oct 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223786993

H.L. Dowless

The author is a national & international academic/ ESL Instructor. He has been a writer for over thirty years. His latest publications have been two books of nonfiction with Algora Publishing, a fictional novel by Atmosphere Press, and fictional publications with combo e-zines and print magazines; Leaves Of Ink, CC&D Magazine, a novel with Atmosphere press, Short Story Lovers, The Fear Of Monkeys, and Frontier Tales. He recently signed three contracts with Pen it Publications. The author has enjoyed a lifetime of outdoor activities from big game hunting, camping, fishing, and trapping, to archaeological field work in various exotic locations. What he enjoys most of all is meeting freedom loving, interesting creative people, who are also regular dedicated fans of his publications. The author is a national & international academic/ ESL Instructor. He has been a writer for over thirty years. His latest publications have been two books of nonfiction with Algora Publishing, a fictional novel by Atmosphere Press, and fictional publications with combo e-zines and print magazines; Leaves Of Ink, CC&D Magazine, a novel with Atmosphere press, Short Story Lovers, The Fear Of Monkeys, and Frontier Tales. He recently signed three contracts with Pen it Publications. The author has enjoyed a lifetime of outdoor activities from big game hunting, camping, fishing, and trapping, to archaeological field work in various exotic locations. What he enjoys most of all is meeting freedom loving, interesting creative people, who are also regular dedicated fans of his publications. The author is a national & international academic/ ESL Instructor. He has been a writer for over thirty years. His latest publications have been two books of nonfiction with Algora Publishing, a fictional novel by Atmosphere Press, and fictional publications with combo e-zines and print magazines; Leaves Of Ink, CC&D Magazine, a novel with Atmosphere press, Short Story Lovers, The Fear Of Monkeys, and Frontier Tales. He recently signed three contracts with Pen it Publications. The author has enjoyed a lifetime of outdoor activities from big game hunting, camping, fishing, and trapping, to archaeological field work in various exotic locations. What he enjoys most of all is meeting freedom loving, interesting creative people, who are also regular dedicated fans of his publications.

Book preview

H.L. Dowless

A Lone Cry From The Bleak Forest

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Where oh where lies the garden of the gods,

that golden land where I long to be,

where all passions may be fulfilled with a single nod,

when humanity is finally restored into his lost glowing splendor you see,

and he possesses the ability to comprehend the absolute glory found in

the beauty of an insignificant small pod?

Inside this realm of complete corruption,

dominated by self indulgence and greed,

I feel the magnetism of Liberty’s seduction,

a space where I can frolic is what I need.

Inside this realm of mortal man’s creation

the law of God remains separated therefrom,

the prohibitive rules of man facilitate a legal regulation,

yet in the end the law of nature has won.

When, oh when, shall the magnificent goddess Astraea return,

seeking to restore her magnificent ante-mutated family;

then the mutated, so vile and wicked, shall at long last burn,

and all of earth shall dwell so joyfully?

Where oh where lies the isle of Thule?

How may I find Hyperborea?

Help me discover that place where only those sweet masters of heaven rule,

where I may escape this present secular land of freedom’s repression and wild hysteria!

Hark now, on yon horizon I see,

that misty veil of perception is lifting,

an image of a dark isle on a liquid horizon I believe,

is making a powerful beckoning appeal to me.

I behold her endearing form during midnight hours,

I walk her golden shores throughout the night,

I delight in a land of flowing honey and a menagerie of intoxicating flowers,

I battle a return to the land of the mortal with all of my might.

Facilitate my great escape, oh ye veil of impenetrable bleakness,

conceal now my tracks, oh ye furious wind of midnight spirits!

Allow me, please, to vanish into that realm of eternal jubilant greetings,

and dwell for all infinity where beings of righteousness stand nearest.

A Wasted Girl’s Dream, A Poor Father’s Horror

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What does she want?

In her imagination she desires an ancient sage.

What does she get?

Only to read the same old page.

In the faint dawn of early morning,

on a misty mountain side,

she embraces the horned being,

she savors the awesome surge of the tide.

In a bed of clover cushioned rose petals

they both fall,

like the slam of a hammer to metal,

he keeps his tense balls to the wall.

In her heart she knows that she should not be there,

but he comprehends well what she most longs for;

that merciless massive organ that this beast loves to share,

this sweet euphoria of a climax her heart so adores.

She never thought that she would do such things,

On blankets of lush green clover so deep in the hardwood

the echoes through the air rings,

Those timeless sounds of amour she makes are so well understood.

Until she met him

she ne’er knew her back door could be so deep,

that her front guard could absorb shock so well,

until sweet juice flows and from the edges it generously seeps;

Then she arises with a secret story that she’ll never tell.

She wipes her soiled body clean then replaces her new robe,

slowly ambling through the wood stand as though nothing happened,

returning home to a suspicious mother and father who shall never know,

though the itching truth looming in her fragile mind shan’t ne’er be forgotten.

She slumbers on quietly and easily,

sleeping the whole night through,

awaking only to realize that she had been dreaming;

the motivation for her corrupted dream she hasn’t a clue.

As she lays quietly in her bed at midnight,

the soft moonbeams reach far into her window,

she often thinks she perceives the beast’s sable arms in the hazy crescent light,

how desperately she wishes this vision would somehow evolve.

The Pauper And The Burgher

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There once