Remember those childhood summers, when you leaped astride your bicycle and explored your wondrous neighborhood? All that innocence all that joy. Here’s a poem reflecting that gladness.



Bicycle Days


 Give me a bicycle, grant me a meadow

         I’ll take you to the secret heart of things

         where the butterfly wings when the sun goes down

         where the rabbit flies when the fox is nigh

         we’ll fall into arms of blossoming fields

         lie flat out in enchanted grasses       

         then up and away on fleecy clouds       

         we’ll float to the kingdom above the meadow

         there pass the day in sky’s pure light

         singing songs of the old west wind    

         whispering stories of the good green earth  

         till we kiss the clouds and say good night.

         We’ll beat the moon to the rim of the forest

         jump on the bicycle, ride through the night

         till we reach the place where the dawn begins

         and hitch a ride on the waking sun

         over the whole wide earth we’ll ride

         calling to children far below                 

         our fingers scattering beams of light

         keen eyes spying the smallest thing

         till the sun falls low and we hit the road

         past the farmer’s house, past the village steeple

         and we’re home before that brother moon

         shines us into our slumbering beds.

         The bicycle waits in the old garage   

         in the silent night its chain is taut     

         at dawn it leaps to the willing curb

         awaiting our eager hands and hearts

         I jump on board, you push me away

         you run behind, you spring astride

         the morning beckons over the hill

         the great day greets our loud hurrah.