A bike race turns into something else
|I thought I'd give myself a break,
Some good old-fashioned time I'd take.
A bicycle race would be fun,
I'd beat the pants off everyone.
I soon found out I'd aged a bit,
the seat no longer seemed to fit
the width of my expanded rump,
I felt the shock of every bump.
Other riders quickly passed me,
their backsides were all I could see.
Still determined to keep riding,
I could feel my pace subsiding.
Approaching, I could see three cows,
beside them stood a group of sows.
They blocked the road, I could not pass.
Whatever would I do? Alas!
I quickly looked to left, then right,
a tree bridge was within my sight.
A sharp turn, and I'd miss the cows,
And hopefully that group of sows.
I gulped! The bridge was not that wide!
And then, my bike began to slide.
Shaking, I began to shiver,
I had landed in the river.
My bike was now nowhere in sight.
I must have appeared quite a site.
Dripping wet, with wounded pride,
and now it seemed I'd lost my ride.
The cows mooed and the sows snorted,
now that my trip was aborted,
as if to say, "What did you think?"
"Your age landed you in the drink."
With wounded ego, I walked home.
The cows had left, I was alone.
Needless to say, the river won.
I think my racing days are done.
8 Syllable, AABB Pattern
Key Words: break, bicycle race, three cows, tree bridge, river