Twas the night before 30 Days of Biking - A Poem

Twas the night before 30 Days of Biking, when all through the town
The snow was a falling, the drifts did abound.
The ponchos were hung by the door with care,
In hopes that no rain would find them there.

The cyclists were nestled in bed for the night
While dreaming that they would peddle with might.
My son's helmet's ready, and so is my cap,
Now, just settle our brains for some wintery crap.

When out on the bike path there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a magnificent group of cyclists of good cheer.

They gathered from everywhere, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment they must have commit.
To the 30 days of Biking in two thousand thirteen,
They whistled, and shouted, in support of me!

"Now Commuter! now, Mother! now, Child and Father!
On, Cruiser! On, Single Speed! on, Mamafiets and Road Racer!
from the top of the porch! to the top of the hill!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So throughout the 30 days they did glide,
With the joys of their freedom, on their bicycles ride.

They rode to the mountains, to work and to school,
They made a statement together,  they yelled one and all.
That whatever you do, and wherever you glide,
You will make a difference with the smallest bike ride !



Happy 30 days of biking everyone, I can't wait to share my journey here again this year, this time from The Netherlands. Thanks for joining us, supporting us and making a difference!

P.S. no actual snow drifts here, just taking artistic license.