My New Chopper Life

Was riding my bicycle, 
around the age of eleven.
Popping wheelies during summer, 
Life was heaven.

Riding the back wheel,
when I first heard the sound.
I turned around, 
a brand new life was found.

The first thing I saw, 
was long and chrome.
A springer they called it.
Coolest thing ever known.

The sound, it was deep.
Not a whine, but a rumble.
It sounded mad, 
even a bit disgruntled.

The frame was yellow,
the tank high and proud.
Was something like this, 
even allowed?

The seat was black.
A King and Queen I learned.
I would be King.
A Queen I now yearned.

A bar ran tall,
behind the seat, 
It had a sword embedded.
Gawd it was sweet.

The pipes out the back, 
had tips that flared.
I loved it.
The other kids ran scared.

But the coolest thing ever,
his foot worked the clutch, 
his hand grabbed the shifter.
My life forever was touched.

I knew right then
No matter how far away.
A bike called a chopper. 
I would be riding one day.

R. S. Morris