deepundergroundpoetry.com
Cycling a Poetic Ride
I will take my old red bike for a ride
when the muse sends a breeze from the hill
no matter what time, be it warmth or chill
i'll follow my feel, and Nature's tide
It may be midnight, dawn, or at dusk
when the tingle stirs a dormant nerve
i may even not be in such a hot verve
frozen with cold, or in the sun, i bask
I ride my bike sometimes at midnight
hear the engine rolling over its tires
an onomatopoeia sounds like barbed wires
sniper in the bush,lying out of sight
As i ride my bike i feel transported
airborne, floating to a placeless time
in the field, or in the street, nameless
an ecstatic feeling, in words versed
There's a rhyming rhythm that refrains
a high-pitched tune in a long flat revving
as if my bike knows poetic verse to compose
inspiring the rider thru' airy cycling stroll
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