Bicycle race
a race in life, a race in town
on our bicycles down the slope,
little daughter, colourful gown,
two pink sparkling cheeks, full of hope!
knew the game for me was to lose,
to make her feel the champ she wished,
had to do all to hide that ruse,
lest she feel her efforts diminished.
the whistle went sharp and clear,
blown by none other than wife,
off we went speeding without fear,
bumpity bump, laughing, happy life.
the gentle slope conveyed her on,
while I struggled to grapple with the road,
her happy giggles that Sunday morn,
held key to my own happiness code.
She reached the line well before me,
stood victorious leaning on her bike,
shook her hand down on my knee,
setting her up to win life’s race alike.
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