Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2018
The bullet rumbled to a stop,
Its black - clad rider at the top.
Dark glasses, leather jacket, youthful spring,
Majestic with the helmet swing.

The world round him, seemed to slow,
A playful glow, his eyes did show.
Entranced by the lady across the street,
Falling for her, advances he on quick feet.

The gorgeous girl but glanced around,
The knight in shining armour, did abound.
Returned rejected to his steady stallion,
Defeated in, the great battalion.

Her high heels, clicked in beat,
As the faint rumbling, reduced the heat.
If the prince, should ever find,
A scrawled number, in his pocket hind.

Would not we all, love to know,
What did follow !!!
For my friend who admires the Bullet bikes, and dreams of owning one :)
Megan Parson
Written by
Megan Parson  21/F/India
(21/F/India)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems