Crossing over the “new” bridge to a different landscape
To a city filled with the blues where I can traipse
Makes me anticipate each place
From the map where I set a path to trace.
My first stop is where the mighty Mississippi rolls on along
As I sit on the cobblestone path as I think of many Elvis songs.
The lowlands of the West create a green, flat city on the go
With history of civil rights and Sun Studio.
I get my fill of my childhood haunts,
Then I begin my drive to continue my peaceful jaunt.
My second stop is to the highlands in the middle:
The Capitol, the arts of the Frist, the music of the Ryman, and history where I have nothing to riddle.
The beauty of the city, lakes, and trees on the scene
With continuing traditions never ending and never lean.
Driving over the Gateway Bridge, the arch’s hue continuously changes over the Cumberland River
Makes me sad to leave, but my next spot always delivers.
Arriving into this quaint city so posh and so poetic to the eye,
I walk across the Walnut Street Bridge to the North Shore only to find:
A hamlet filled with exuberant arts and local places to shop
Against the Cumberland River as a peaceful, enchanting back drop.
The mountains of the East are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever gazed.
My last stop leaves me in a fulfilled, imaginative haze.
This alluring, charming parallelogram of a state
Contains beautiful bridges linking three stars into a triangle as if it were fate.
The lowlands, the highlands, and the mountains provide a plethora of symmetry
Of breathtaking wonder for everyone to experience in its myriad of imagery.