tis but a rusted memory
now
but once a child's pride and
beloved toy....
fire engine-red trike,
riden for miles, and miles
and across lands of
imagined adventure....
feet pumping, wind in face
bell clattering, tink-tink-tink
and screams of pure...
unadulterated JOY
now a shadow,
draped in old hessian cloth
bell silent, rust weeping
and frozen to the ground
red trike,
i ride you still
in my dreams
we still slay dragons
tho now it seems
that dragons have many
guises, many lives
and that in this life
of adultness...i am in
dragons...sometimes
not often, but sometimes win
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
tis but a rusted memory
now
but once a child's pride and
beloved toy....
fire engine-red trike,
riden for miles, and miles
and across lands of
imagined adventure....
feet pumping, wind in face
bell clattering, tink-tink-tink
and screams of pure...
unadulterated JOY
now a shadow,
draped in old hessian cloth
bell silent, rust weeping
and frozen to the ground
red trike,
i ride you still
in my dreams
we still slay dragons
tho now it seems
that dragons have many
guises, many lives
and that in this life
of adultness...i am in
dragons...sometimes
not often, but sometimes win
we have bought tod a trike
like thing for christmas....
made me think of the three times handed down...three wheeler i had as a child...
and other things....
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