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The Sunday Post: A Poem on Valentine’s Day

Like Riding a Bicycle

I had a dream last night that
I was on a bicycle.
This was odd really, and almost
seems impossible.

You see, I’ve never,
ever, ridden a bike.
Though, according to my
baby book, I did have a trike.

My mother wrote that my
legs weren’t quite long enough
so maybe they left it for my brother
and I moved on to other stuff.

I never learned to ride, or even wanted to.
But I did in my dream last night.
The bike was waiting there, just for me,
so I picked it up and set it upright.

I got on, and started to pedal.
Yes, I was scared, at first.
I wobbled and faltered and thought I would
crash and fall headfirst.

I nearly did, of course.
But my legs kept propelling me forward
and before I knew it, 
it no longer felt awkward.

I was making progress;
gaining momentum.

I didn’t get on a bicycle this morning.
Instead, I got dressed for a date.
I was nervous, of course, but the 
wheels were in motion and I couldn’t wait.

Alas, the frigid rain put a damper on our plans
and my date asked to postpone.
Undaunted I grabbed my camera
And headed out on my own.

There’ll be another chance
to meet for coffee face-to-face, 
or dinner, or maybe drinks.
I’ll go almost anyplace.

Because I’m making progress.
I’m gaining momentum.
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