Cycling poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best Cycling poems ever written. Read all poems about Cycling.
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
Why do we spend so much time in the gym,
Why is it that we feel we must keep slim,
On cycling, long hours we spend,
But, go nowhere, in the end,
Long and winding road
with patches and holes
The holes which sometimes
turned into small ponds,
By our place in the midst of the furthest seas we were fated to stand alone -
When the nations fly at each other's throats let Australia look to her own;
Let her spend her gold on the barren west, let her keep her men at home;
For the South must look to the South for strength in the storm that is to come.
Grey pigeon flutters on ledge of concrete.
Wonder, how it survives on urban streets.
Seen them flock in city squares as folks throw seeds.
Unlike hawks don’t swoop down and snatch with greed.
ULTIMATING IN ZEROING
Driving along in her bread truck early one morn
With everything going exactly as norm
Margaret spied a lone wheel on the left trundling ahead
Turned to her brother, the newspaper he read
Drudging my way through narrow pavements of dusty roads,
cycling with all my friends,
I played hide and seek with them
in a joyous mood,
GO TO WORK ON A BRAQUE!
Youths disguised as stockbrokers
Too young to know the horrors of a war I've fought,
too young to know war's fear, or yearn for heroism,
but old enough to have lived through;
boys but one year older than myself
There are so many things
To do which I would like
I would love to go cycling
But that’s after dad buys me a bike
I was reminded this afternoon of
The anonymous poem 'For the
Want of a Horseshoe Nail', written
Many centuries ago, probably by
'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
in the impossible mind's eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
where wave pretends to drench real sky.'
At will, I dig into that treasure of memories
Built at home till my early twenties…
Cycling to school at eight in the dense fog,
Wearing a short skirt and a maroon knitted top.
'Konkani Mai Ascends the Throne'
(Hyperlinks are highly recommended to grasp the aura of this poem)
Dedicated to the memory of Fernando da Costa Leal
Anxiety rides my coatails...
As i push ever onward ahead-
Afraid to live...
Afraid to die-afraid of the dead;
The winter lake, surrounded by frigid trees
And naked branches whose now ankle deep
Soggy wet leaves carpet the lakeside path,
Has become an inhospitable place.
Feel the chill of freezing winter
To know the warmth of summer
Falling leaves of pale autumn
Evokes wish for green spring
On my Life Cycle
Cycling for good life
I can hardly wait
For real McCoy
Woke at 5AM
Preparing for sun
Got on Life Cycle
Cycling for my life
Beautiful loch, autumn gold and amber trees clear crystal water. Cycling through the wooded paths the air is pure and crisp, warm sunshine shines through the oaks and elms glistening, wild flowers carpet the ground. With my beloved we embrace life and nature.
Michael Cochrane ©
From Oban we take the ferry to Mull Island Scotland. Haversacks and panniers of clothing, summer cycling we see the sea hawk and a family of seals. Tobermory is in view houses of many colours, fishing boats and nets. Whiskey shops and tartan
blankets and kilts. We have sandwiches and drinks watching the world go by. Happy times.
Michael Cochrane ©
Circles cycling frenetic spinning tops,
we all, it seems, just go round; trapped revolutions.
like the moon round the earth and the earth round the sun and everything round the spiral galaxy ad infinitum
Promote cycling; respect cyclists.
Make tracks for it on busy roads.
It makes no smoke and save petrol.
It promotes health. Practise cycling
The April rain-drops burst up
On my cornea.
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