Peace At Last

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short poem the pains and joys of bike riding. Its as simple as that.

Submitted: September 14, 2008

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Submitted: September 14, 2008



As I cycled down that pass,

Going fast, biking strong.

The wind, it seems to never cease

and legs grow tired from biking long.

The birds they sing and fly and chirp,

and squirrels do run and squeak.

Feel nature's awesome beauty

radiate at its peak.

My tires do spin and grip the mud,

and move those oblong stones.

My hair it pours with plenty sweat,

with all my achy bones.

Although I'm tired from the ride,

and heart it beats so fast,

I cannot help but think and smile,

I found some peast atlast.

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