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Life’s rich feast has turned thin gruel

To the grocery store goes the hike
after writing a daily verse
Then rolling several blocks by bike
All his adventures short & terse

All gets squeezed in between breathing
finding glasses, wiggling toes
admiring a baby’s teething
plus doors to open & close

Still time before dinner calls
steadfastly without fail
to (just before darkness falls)
take out the garbage pail

Life’s rich feast has turned thin gruel
what a feeble, dismal show!
How’s retirement such a jewel?
Would you tell me if you know?

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Rolling through early Spring’s bursting blossom portals

Winter now fading flotsam
lost in tenebrous wake
while the Spring’s tender blossom
bursting fully awake

Dancing blinding sun rays
reflections oblique
among brief showers race
playing hide & seek

In streets trees stretch their eaves
blows a gentle tepid breeze
through giddy tender leaves
like sound of slipping chemise

To roll through cherry blossom portal
brims the heart of this rhyming mortal

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No wind in face

Asks cyclist amidst ‘metal boxes on rubber’
predatorily sleek or overreach blubber:

So in love head over heels
with their crisply gleaming
well appointed ‘caves on wheels’
why aren’t drivers beaming?

On soft seat behind windshield
might driving perhaps be
in climate control congealed
akin to watch TV:

Like sealed off, stale behind chromed grill?
No wind in face, crisp morning chill.

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Movement fills every moment

Small boys & girls darting on bikes
untiringly they explore
in streets, trekking on backyard hikes
“Watch me! watch me!”, they implore

Hover their ‘hood tiny voices’
Each moment full of movement
in Summer’s endless play choices
Movement fills every moment

Fully one with the moment
Life’s ultimate bestowment

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Tailwinds perennially blow

In Ballard bicycle tires don’t puncture
Streets are ballroom smooth with curbs of foam
Cars wait politely at every juncture
Welcome to where electric bikes roam!

It’s where perennial tailwinds blow
and helmets won’t flatten your hairdo

+)
Ballard = the Seattle neighborhood where our e-bike shop is still located

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Shop did not prove last stop

From the workforce now retired
but otherwise unexpired!

While in earlier years, prior
I had the fleeting notion
of hearing the Heavenly Choir
filling me with emotion:

that toiling away in the bike shop
would prove my life’s blowout puncture
The terminal ‘end of the line’ stop
with no transfer at that juncture

For now my mind keeps inquiring
although more & more misfiring

+)
the bike shop = my, at the time, place of work

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Cyclist, a bravely balancing bull’s eye

Mere inches from apron sliver
impatient cars stream, squeeze by
Pedaling & sweat in quiver
we’re a balancing bull’s eye

In their ‘behind the wheel seduction’
impatient, sometimes arrogant
drivers may view us as obstruction
at best a minor irritant

As their foot the gas pedal kisses
do drivers know what he/she misses?

edited 06/24/22 0905

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Leaves piling on Autumn rides beguiling

Past thinning trees ablaze
on roads wetly glaced
In sunlit lukewarm haze
hills pumpingly paced

Slim tires splashing
through leaves stockpiling
Cyclists dashing
on rides beguiling

Linger the last Autumn days
lustrous, crisply tender
Under Winter’s furtive gaze
fades Fall’s cerise splendor

+)
pumpingly = as in pedaling hard, i.e. ‘pumping’ the pedals

 

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Dancing on the pedals

Give your proud legs the chance
to warm, to limber
then set out, watch them prance
in cadenced timbre

Pure pedal powering
in strongest mettle
like petals flowering
in finest fettle

Below blossoms gliding
tires spinning, scouring
boundless bounty riding
while miles devouring

Dancing away on the pedals
in purest joy mystical
beyond mere racing for medals
Living movement lyrical!

+)
cadence = the measure of rhythmical motion; cycling: the number of revolutions of the crank per minute