On Christmas morning,
I rush downstairs
and there it is
beside the tree
two shiny black tires
a cherry-red frame--
my own bicycle.
The one present
I really, really wanted.
On the handle bars
hanging,
like a Christmas tree ornament,
my bicycle helmet
with red flames
licking up the sides.
My bicycle,
my happiness,
my ticket
to explore,
my freedom.
Do you have a bicycle or is that on your Christmas wish list? I remember my first bike. My father got it from the Salvation Army Thrift Shop and painted it red for me. He put wooden blocks on the pedals so I could reach them. I was the only kid in my kindergarten class with a two wheel bicycle. I learned early because I was always riding my older sister's bike. But it was no where near as early as my own son who was riding a two wheeler when he was three years-old. If you could fly on a bike, where would it take you? What would the ride be like? Can you write a poem about that? Or write a poem about your own bicycle. Have a fun time with this prompt.