Pedaling Bliss
At long last your lover's grips greet you, soft and familiar.
You step on the pedal that is home's threshold welcome;
Squishier than freshly baked bread, your buns are in the saddle.
You push off... your spirit turning over like a motor.
With silver satin streets sliding under your wheel,
Tickled by the wind in your hairy shins~ you squeal.
February 15th 2019
Reflect That Emotion Poetry Contest
Sponsor Nina Parmenter
Copyright © Maureen McGreavy The Insolent Rib | Year Posted 2019
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