My Tricycle
With a smile upon my face and a twinkle in my eye
I rode my sister's tricycle with an accomplished sigh
Traveling as fast as my three year old legs could carry me
Feeling the wind in my hair, I was filled with joyous glee.
But my happiness was short lived and came to an abrupt stop
When my sister ordered me off her bike like a seasoned cop
"It's my turn and my bike", she said with an anguished pout
Then dad whispered in my ear, "Don't worry honey, it will all work out."
The very next day, I had a new tricycle of my own
Feeling for the first time that I was almost half grown
My eyes must have shone as bright as my shiny red bike
Till I noticed the jealously on my sister's face showed her dislike
There were beads on the spokes, streamers on the handlebars
The frame work was covered with many multicolored stars
Seeing the bike through my sister's eyes, I knew I would feel the same
Mixed emotions of love and seeing her hurt set my heart aflame.
I was torn for I loved the bike but I loved my sister more
Seeing her upset was not something that I bargained for
I thought to myself, a bike is a bike and to my sister I said:
"You can have the new bike, I'll take the old one instead."
As I watched my sister jump on my new bike and ride away
The connection between us grew even stronger that day
Over her shoulder she called out, "Come on Sis lets ride."
I knew I made the right decision by the warmth I felt inside.
For: Gwendolen Rix’s “My Bicycle” contest
April 29, 2012
Copyright © Cecilia Macfarlane | Year Posted 2012
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