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Cycling | ||
| The bike trail is calling for riders galore To fly down its path on the way to the store. It beckons with tulips and sweet-smelling pines To all who would follow the bicycle signs. The breeze is so sweet as it kisses our face. We inhale its fragrance whatever the pace. The sun is so bright it dispels all the haze. We warm to the glow of its radiant rays. We huff and we puff as we climb the steep hills, Then race down so fast that it gives us the chills. Our legs will not fail us wherever we ride. The journey is restful when we're side by side. | ||
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