I have bicycles on the brain this week. So here's bicycle poem for the day.
The Maiden
by Anonymous
The maiden with her wheel of old
Sat by the fire to spin,
While lightly through her careful hold
The flax slid out and in.
Today her distaff, rock and reel
Far out of sight are hurled
And now the maiden with her wheel
Goes spinning round the world.
Must get back to the work in progress. Yes, it has bicycles.
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