Little Tommy Rides.
Little Tommy, only four
Sets off on his shiny bike
No trainer wheels in days of yore
for his gleaming yellow and white.
Helmet snug upon his head
He starts off stiff but proud
Only to learn that staying upright
Is easier said than done.
The two wheeled gadget
Turns and twists upon itself
tight figures of eight its forewheel makes
as poor Tommy cuts a crooked path
into neighborhood hedges and yawning gates.
Oh to control this wayward bike
This thing of joy on Christmas morn
To son, with love from dad and mom.
Little did he know the frequent spills
He’d face before learning this tricky skill.
With twisted spine, rigid elbows stuck to his sides
a picture of grim determination he paints
as he wobbles and tumbles along the path
Certain that one fine day ...one bright day
he’ll make it all the way.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
