Rusty Spokes and Golden Light

(Verse 1)
The garage breathes dust, a Sunday afternoon,
Sun cracks through rafters, paints a faded moon.
There she stands, my Raleigh, green and worn,
A story etched in every scratch and horn.
Haven't touched her since young Martha went away,
Guess it’s time to dust her off, and ride again today.

(Chorus)
Rusty spokes and golden light, the wind a whispered plea,
Let's chase the ghosts of summer down by the old oak tree.
Every pedal's a memory, a turning of the page,
Forget the wrinkles in my face, forget my aging stage.

(Verse 2)
The seat's a little harder than I recall,
My knees complain, threatening a fall.
But once I'm rolling, balance finds its grace,
The world unfolds, a smile lights up my face.
The cornfields whisper secrets to the breeze,
And fireflies are twinkling in the old oak trees.

(Chorus)
Rusty spokes and golden light, the wind a whispered plea,
Let's chase the ghosts of summer down by the old oak tree.
Every pedal's a memory, a turning of the page,
Forget the wrinkles in my face, forget my aging stage.

(Bridge)
Maybe Martha's waiting with that smile I knew,
Maybe she's watching, from that distant blue.
Remembering every hill, every sun-drenched mile,
Our adventures echoed, in my memory for a while.

(Verse 3)
This bike's more than metal, gears, and chain,
She's a faithful friend, easing all the pain.
She reminds me that the journey is the prize,
And the world still holds beauty in my weary eyes.
The sun is dipping low, painting the sky with fire,
And I ride into the sunset, fueled by my desire.

(Chorus)
Rusty spokes and golden light, the wind a whispered plea,
Let's chase the ghosts of summer down by the old oak tree.
Every pedal's a memory, a turning of the page,
Forget the wrinkles in my face, forget my aging stage.

(Outro)
Forget the wrinkles, for a little while,
Just rusty spokes and golden, and a long, slow smile.
Rusty spokes and golden,
All along that aging trail.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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