By Jen Hunt
“It’s just what I wanted!”,
the biker proclaimed,
as she put the straw helmet
atop her brown mane.
The poems had dwindled,
she loathed to admit,
since Covid she’d written
nary a bit.
But biking and musing
had never been better
since donning this tribute
to all her endeavors.
“The poems are flowing!
I’m coming alive!”,
declared the Poet Laureate
of Peonies Drive.
Who would believe what a straw hat could do?
A happy Bike Pretty poet, that’s who!
