Pineapple, Crabapple, sweet smelling lime;
Graham crackers, egg sauces, rhythm in time;
Song bitter sweet, a musical treat, I’m riding my bike singing good things to eat.
Look at the colours, six kinds of green;
Blue yellow flowers with orange in between.
Butterfly wings, such beautiful things,
I’m riding along with my eyes wide open and I’m singing a song.
I’m wheelin’, I’m feelin’, I’m happy and strong.
I smell a skunk cabbage walking on the bog walk.
If I’m quiet enough I’ll even hear the frogs talk.
Weaving a bloom on harmony’s loom;
Daffodils humming a hummingbird’s tune.
Honeysuckle, milkweed, delightful temptation;
Blackberries, chokecherries, nature’s creation;
A fragrance so rare like little kids hair;
It’s here now, it’s there now, it’s everywhere and I’m singing a song,
It’s real and I’m feeling it’s fragile and strong.
Toes goin’ squish-squash, sliding through the wet moss;
a ditch running gurgle gosh, I think I’ll try to jump across.
Hair streaming windblown; legs wheeling round and round,
Road racing under me, my bike blends into the rhythm and time and seasons and rhyme.
I’m riding along and I feel like singing so I’ll sing you a song, sing you a song.
I’m reelin’, I’m feelin’, I’m happy and strong.
Sing you a song, Wheelin’ along . . .