Simple Bike

Years ago three thousand tons

Would move with wind

Human sweat, toil and sails

A ship would ply the oceans.
 
 

Then the engine came called horse power

One hundred of them would push a barge

Ten thousand tons to wait for tide

And make its way no matter wind.
 
 

Now I ride and sweat and toil

Pushing against the wind with 1/5th a horse

And 5 times the speed against the wind

Carrying a pound of water.
 
 

Every angle, every lee, I feel to gain

Some respite from the slog of gale

Yet smile and marvel at this

Contraption called a bike.
 
 

The bike can carry its motor

Faster than we care to think

Much easier to ride some hide

Or use gas toward some repast
 
 

And never sweat the wind, or rain

Or snow. Hiding behind glass

A pedal that never turns,

You yell to those outside, never smiling.
 
 

The effort of motion calms a spirit

Each mile is measured by link

By stroke, by turn of wheel, by

Spoke, by breath and beat of heart
 
 

The bike lives under me as I

Live under the spell

I love to eat and welcome

The fair wind home.

Traveling Along

Traveling Along

 

Traveling along a road near by

No thought to pedaling feet

I held a smile a mile wide

The trees all flutter like a sheet

 

In the wind I face without a choice

A destination I do know

And waiting for the lovely voice

A life partner that has a flow

 

To merit the wisdom of grace

Yet hides behind a mantel sure

As I make it all a race

And  foul the state demure

 

All tired and beat of rides long

Words few and far between

I eat the food without a song

He listens of sights unseen.

 

The body aches not for comfort

But for sleep with muscels tired

A lonely night I lay as mort

Morning comes and we’re all wired.

 

How long to make such a fuss

Of riding a bike for a cause

Egnoring the heated cuss

From his lips and pointed claws

 

It makes no sense to any other

Person who does not ride one

Both are loved as a shudder

From the mornings passion fun

 

The time will speed and tides will change

The rides will come on lazy days.

And we’ll talk across the range

Of our past and future ways.

 

You May Wait

 

You may wait and wait for the perfect day

That will make the ride the best you say.

 

The day will come after many have past

But your tires are flat and you’re not so fast.

 

Better to take the days as they are

Not waiting for weather in a bar.

 

The sun will shine or the clouds may bare

Witness to your messy long hair,

 

From under a good helmet

You wore all the way to work.

 

The clickety clack coming from your feets

Turns heads not expecting to see you in cleats

 

You know they lust after your legs.

Stares lasting longer than kegs.

 

You are proud of the effort that has gotten you here

Yet you would be happier if they offered you beer.

 

Now after a while the days come and go

And you haven’t given thought to the snow.

 

So the mind wonders to an old proverb,

Not jaunty or witty nor even superb.

 

There’s no such thing as bad weather

Only bad clothes made out of feather.