My Bike, A Special Toy

BBBH, as guest blogger for this Lord’s Day, has chosen to give you one of her poems.

My Bike, a Special Toy

Though riding my bike is easy to do

It helps my soul with-in renew
With a healing breeze refreshing my face

I ride along at a nice even pace

Hearing the Whippoorwill sing his song

For memories of childhood, sometimes I long

Or riding alone, at morning’s first light

I see flocks of geese, in perfect flight

Sometimes riding, just before dusk,

Hearing the locust croaking in lust

Reminds me of a lazier time

When bread could be bought for just a dime

Feeling the sunrays hot on my back

It’s already warm at dawn’s first crack,

Soothing my soul with soft inner peace

Riding my bike is like a fabulous feast

Feeling the breeze rumple my hair

Out by a lake, in imagination, I am there

At such times, I yearn for an earlier day

As I watch little children laugh and play

Sharing the ride with another or riding alone

The joy of my inner-child, is ever strong.

I’ve even been caught out in the rain

Stopped at a corner by a slow moving train

But I’m so thankful for these special rides

They help my heart deal with changing tides

As I ride beside a little stream

Life goes on like a changing dream

Pearls of life, like beads are strung

But in my Spirit, I am ever young

I thank the Lord for this simple joy

Even grown-ups, can enjoy this special toy

Psalm 103:5

Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagles’. 

© Grace JoAnn Harrison Lacy, Gifts from God, p.98, 1995, 2013

Christina Georgina Rossetti,

English poet, was born on December 5, 1830.  She was a devout woman, and devoted to literary endeavors.  She had suitors and offers of marriage, all of which she declined.  Some of her most well-recognized poetry was published posthumously, as for instance this poem, "In the Bleak Mid-winter," which has been set to music and is considered an outstanding Christmas carol.

1. In the bleak mid-winterFrosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winterLong ago.

2. Our God, Heaven cannot hold HimNor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee awayWhen He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winterA stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,Jesus Christ.

3. Enough for Him, whom cherubimWorship night and day,
A breastful of milkAnd a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angelsFall down before,
The ox and ass and camelWhich adore.

4. Angels and archangelsMay have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphimThronged the air;
But only His motherIn her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the BelovedWith a kiss.

5. What can I give Him,Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherdI would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise manI would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,Give my heart.

Christina Georgina Rossetti, 1830 – 1894  RIP