Ballad of the Bicycle

One fine spring morn, I, Kevin, son of Peter
Bethought myself that I might require...
A new bicycle!

Twas the spring of Ninety-Five,
A mild winter we'd just survived.
I had a bike, and not too old,
yet it did not impress me, may I be so bold:
Its gearing sluggish, sometimes rough,
Its performance stalwart, but not enough.

We'd been through alot, that bike and I, but
I was somehow ready for more.  But what?!
Yet still uncertain if t'were my destiny,
I went to see what the world could offer me,
In the way of a new bicycle.

For weeks I scoured the land, to East and West,
to each bike shop in the whole county, to find the best.
And from each shop I requested catalogs of all
the bikes they had to offer, and stacked them in the hall,
until I had of catalogs more weight,
than weight of bike I shopped for of late!

And every brand considered I,
Each model, priced both low and high,
And slowly narrowed the search until
I'd read enough, I'd had my fill.
There were just two bikes left to consider;
The choice was hard, competition bitter.

I talked with friends of great intellect,
I rode the bikes, their specs I checked.
Then pondered I this final thought:
Should I truly?  Will I like what I've bought?!
But I dove in, and did the deed.
To the town of Ewing did proceed,
and bought I there a rare beauty:
from Knapps Cycles, a Mongoose IBOC Zero-G!

O Heaven, O Bliss, O rare delight!
I brought it home last Thursday night,
and stored it safe in my garage
awaiting the day of our first voyage.

At last, the weekend was upon us all,
And Saturday dawned bright withal.
So after morning chores were done,
And the day had warmed ... I had some fun!
I mounted on my silvery steed
And venturing forth, was suddenly freed
From earthly bondage, for bike and I,
when melded as one, we learned to fly!

Her grace in handling every turn,
Her sweet acceleration burned
Into my brain a sheer delight,
And once we truly did take flight,
When with great speed we mounted o'er
A rise I'd only crawled up before!

We sang, we danced for thirty miles,
And still not sore, but full of smiles,
I put this creature back to bed,
well cleaned and oiled like the manual said.
Then showered myself and rested some
While dreaming of summer days to come,
My bike and I upon the path,
and always going very fast.

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Kevin R. Perry
Homepage: www.princeton.edu/~perry
Email: <perry@princeton.edu>

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