A Poem on Cycling
My Joy of Cycling
My bike to me is a thing of joy,
More than just an expensive toy.
It carries me here, and there, and back,
On a road, a lane or cycle track.
I push the pedals and the wheels whizz along,
My heart soars with a joyous song.
Cares pass me by, my mind is clear,
My bike takes me where I choose to steer.
Moving as one in the fresh open air,
A physical exercise without compare.
Cycling keeps me healthy, happy and fit,
Perfect reasons for doing it.
So cycling to me is a wonderful thing,
In summer, autumn, winter and spring.
The hills may be hard with the wind in my face
But cycling is something that I will never replace.
Comments
MENG CHARSWAY on April 15, 2019:
My bike to me is a tool of pain
More than just a way to train.
I carry it up there and back
an iron maiden for my legs, or a rack.
I push the pedals and wail along
my heart screams a horrid song
no one passes me my mind is clear
my pain takes me to depths where others fear.
moving along as a fish gulping air
a great cavernous pain without compare.
cycling keeps me filthy, furious, and fit,
the perfect reasons for doing it.
so cycling to me is a woeful thing.
the hills in e'vry season are filled with my shrieking
the mountains are good and hard with the pain in my eyes
but another cyclist will never, NEVER pass me by.
NEVER!