Ridden Down
When I taught Ida how to ride a
Bicycle that night,
I ran beside her, just to guide her
Erring wheel aright;
And many times there in the street
She rode upon my weary feet.
But now can Ida mount and ride a
Wheel with graceful ease,
And I, untiring in admiring,
Fall upon my knees
To worship her,—and, for her part,
She rides upon my proffered heart!
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
