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.