She head was high, legs pedaled sure
She rode by he to the store
He came to wait each day
Some times not to show
He know she shoes, the three pair she ware
The pants or skirt did change but few
The skirt with floral colors, pants or slacks
Only once he see the denim she ware.
No holes or wrinkles from long use
She never turned to see he pants
Stain, worn, from work abuse
Shy he plotted to get she name
She head face front, on a mission
Each day a smile, he dare to sight
Half way running toward the light
It turn green, she moves away.
He wait till she pass next day
But had no words to say
She head held high she pedal sure
The picture go by he leaves it pure.