Poetry With A Mission



...a thought provoking poetical exercise.

Next
Previous

Mind That Bike!

I love to ride my push-bike, for there’s so much I can see,
Sitting on my padded seat and pedaling merrily.
But I’m watchful of parked cars, lest an open door appear,
That’ll quickly end my outing and rocket me through the air.

Such incidents can happen, and very frequently too,
Because so many drivers absent-mindedly such things do.
They fling their door wide open, which acts like a giant bat,
Halting innocent cyclists who invariably go splat.

There’s no time to ring a bell, or to tightly squeeze the brakes,
Hence one is quickly humbled, left nursing numerous aches.
’Though one scrambles to their feet to reduce humiliation,
Joints loath to co-operate present a complication.

There’s little time for greetings, nor for any pleasantry,
When one’s lying on a road, positioned most creatively.
Threats of further injury from juggernauts one can’t see,
Provide one with incentive to arise — albeit dizzily.

That is, of course, if one’s conscious, not counting little stars,
Or smiling to the chirping of joyful budgerigars.
And also if one’s body can heed signals from the brain,
That urgently are shouting, “Quickly! Staying here’s insane.”

The push bike one was riding now no longer looks the same,
It’s half the length and mangled, just a bicycle in name.
It’s now a thing of horror, likewise, the disfigured door,
That both cyclist and driver has left shaken and feeling sore.

Now, such could be prevented, if motorists checked to see
If there might be a cyclist approaching them silently.
A little more attention, and also, a bit more thought,
Would save a lot more cyclists from aping an astronaut.

By Lance Landall



Next
Previous
Up