Heading down the track
Wind at my back
Sharp wind burning my face
Hopefully I don’t case…
Dirt flicking up
Back wheel kicking up
Hands gripped, knuckles white
A giant jump is in my sight.
Like an eagle soaring through the air
There is no fear
Losing my grip,
hitting the lip
Tyres slip,
I’m going to flip
There I was ripping
Now my blood’s dripping
I feel sore...
But I want to do more!
By Charlie Frost
Wow this is so good Charlie! You’ve really effectively captured the feeling of riding a bike! It reminds me of the track we did in Kaiteriteri 🚲 😂
ReplyDeleteCharlie this is a first class poem!
ReplyDeleteYou have nailed it perfectly with timing and rhyme but most of all, your description is spot on!
Thanks Charlie I thoroughly enjoyed reading it!