In those days, he didn't have a horse -- he had a different type of steed ...

It wasn't a racer, it had only one speed,
But it opened up whole worlds to me.
I'd take off and ride all over the town,
It relieved the sadness, and just let me be.

On a hot summer day, I'd ride several miles,
Up a long steep hill at the end.
And a wonderful day at the top of the hill
At the big swimming pool I would spend.

It was a huge pool then, hollowed out in the sand,
Nothing fancy, but lots of water and space.
There were tales of turtles, and golf balls to find,
For me, it was a wonderful place.

Thirty-some years later, I drove past our old home,
Up the streets to that pool in the sun.
Now it's much smaller, all concrete and slides,
Much safer, but not nearly so much fun.

The hill is much shorter, and not nearly as steep,
The ride back down not so thrillingly fast.
The trees are much taller, the houses not so big,
Even the bandstand in the park did not last.

We lived by a park, a block square it was,
My playground for many a day.
The main path which circled it now is no more,
But I hear the echoes of we kids at play.

A master I was as we played "Kick the Can",
My boldness and cunning helped me win.
I'd hide right in the open, and rarely get caught,
It was the trees and bushes they'd look in.

It was a different time then, it was safe to be out,
Spend the evening playing in the park.
We had a few scary times, as all kids do,
But all in all, it was quite a lark.

There was a bandstand then, and every Thursday eve,
The town band would play for so long.
We'd sit on our porch swing, and clap and applaud,
The cars would honk their horns after each song.

The sound of that music on those warm summer nights,
The peace and harmony in my soul.
I realize now are my most treasured memories,
Of those years in my life with no goal.

It's a magical night, as I look back in time,
And the windows to my memories open wide.
For it helps me understand the person I am,
By releasing those memories inside.

It paints me a picture of a peace I'd forgotten,
Of a gentleness of life that's missing today.
As I spend my time working in so many ways,
Not taking nearly enough time to play.

Perhaps one day soon, I'll get a bike again,
A touring cycle, the top of the line.
And I'll take the time to go out into the world,
And experience that feeling so fine.

Of the wind in my hair, of the sound of the bike,
Of the vistas and distance so far,
I'll be out there being in the picture of life,
Not looking through the windows of a car.

I'm a big kid now, so it'll be a big kid's bike,
With all the accessories so great.
For the first time now, I understand the appeal
Of a touring cycle -- it's still not too late!

What about you? Do you remember your bike,
And all the miles and memories that you made?
Perhaps you, too, will find the lure of the bike,
As more attention to your childhood is paid!