Nov 21, 2010

An Ode.


Pink bike of mine
you give me joy.

You're greater than the
grandest toy.

Without your wheels
I would be walking.

And closer to the
Chinese mocking.

But with your speed
I fly right by.

And do not see the
natives spy.

Though sometimes death
is very near.

Because the natives
cannot steer.

Though your bell
does not work.

I can yell, "move!"
like a jerk.

Your basket holds
my purse and books.

And you've got 2 locks
in case a stealer looks.

Rain or shine
we go together.

With a sexy poncho
we brave any weather.

You take me far
you take me fast.

I hope that you
forever last.

You give me freedom
to go and roam.

Around this crazy place
I call my home.

2 comments:

agapelife said...

you have a delightful way with words

Mom said...

Love it!!I wish I could ride mine to work! I'd have to get one of those trailers you tow little children around in for all my school stuff!