The "E" Ticket Ride

This poem came about like so many of them, a birthday and the requisite card that goes along with it. This one was for Nancy Gerber, a really dear friend. It was a special birthday, the big 4-0 and certainly a cause for reflection.

I guess as I was thinking about it, I was thinking about my own 40th birthday and my life up to that point. Well, the best description I could think of was a roller coaster. Very few of us get through life without some very high points and some very low points and through the process our voice tends towards the hoarse squeaky end of the register and our hair generally falls out or turns gray. And of course the very best of roller coasters at one time or another returns to the starting point. When the ride is over and all is said and done, it doesn't really matter much, how much territory was covered during the ride or for that matter the number of ups, downs and curves that the ride had, but how much fun you had while you were on it.

Gale L. Wolfenbarger

21 August 1990

The "E" Ticket Ride

Come ride the flying coaster friends

Have the thrill of your life!

It flies through the corners,

Your heart's in your throat,

It cuts through the air like a knife.

The ride begins at a snails pace

To where you cannot see.

The climb is long

As it clanks along

But the height is the ride's great key.

As you clear the top and breathe relief

You can see for endless miles.

With a prayer in your heart

You go on with a start,

White knuckles hold on all the while.

At times it seems the bottom is gone

And you fall for days on end,

And then with a jolt

Your path takes a turn

And spins you around again.

Up and down and over and out

Around and around you go,

You scream 'til you're hoarse

And your hair has turned gray

And the end is more than you know.

And then at last when you think that you can't

Bear to go on any more,

The path is now straight

The end is in sight,

Safe harbor, that blissful shore.

Life is like this thrilling ride,

With thrills that can make you scream.

You put down your ticket

And fasten the belt

And hope that this all is a dream.

Some rides are long and some are short

And some but a single day.

And when it's all over

It's not how far that you've gone

It's the fun that you've had on the way.

Gale L. Wolfenbarger

12 August 1990