When on my bicycle
I am the swallow.
The wheels are my wings
Propelling me faster.
Swooping, swaying, hugging curves…
The wind rushes through my hair.
O tree swallow who needs no heap of metal…VICTORY!
You, the acrobat in the sky
While grounded still am I.
Just a quick poem about how I feel on my beloved bicycle. There is a certain freedom that I could only express through poetry. Usually that’s how it works, when I am so happy and emotional (in a good way) about something, it calls for a poem.
Dear Christine, Wonderful poem and drawing! Thank you, Ellen
Thank you Ellen 😀
Those swallows have made synchronized flying into an art. Sometimes I wish I still had my bike.
I was so very fortunate to find my bike…someone was throwing it away! It had two damaged wheels which I replaces for only $52 Wow! Thanks for commenting.
Thank you for sharing. Really enjoyed your poem. Makes me want to ride a bike again! =)
You’re welcome! You should ride again….never too late!
What?? You’re a poet, too??? Too much talent, you’re clearly over the line, Christine… : )
Are you really a cyclist? I get out and pedal fairly regularly. Yes, it’s great to feel like a swallow! Of course running off into the ditch always spoils it… : (
Pretty! I love riding my bicycle, too!