Read Poems by Gail Blakeley

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Michigan Mike

 Early every weekday morning
with the dew still on the grass
way off in the distance
I hear a tiny blast.
Then a steady, soft purr follows,
he's on his way, at last.

It,s  "Michigan Mike" a big ole' boy,
he ran away from home.
From all the ice and snow and cold.
for a soft, sweet place to roam.

No more scraping  sidewalks 
or freezing off his nose.
No more itchy long handles
or heavy, thick, big clothes.

Your in the land of sunshine brother;
ride that bike with joy.

This is what you wanted 
since you were just a lean, young boy.

But, always remember on your rides;
someone, somewhere loves you.
she thinks about you often,
and wants to run away too.

Copyright © Gail Blakeley | Year Posted 2016


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  1. Date: 10/16/2016 8:24:00 AM

    Wow. The feelings can be felt in that. Nice!