Rhonda came riding riding
speeding down the cycle path
flying by the crashing waves
dampened by the salt sea spray
with drifts of wind blown sand

she peddled all the way up the hill
then coasted crazily down again
dodging hunky surfer guys
and fit fems on power walks
dogs madly chasing frisbies

indulging her preferred coastal life
with the vital zest she had for life
her room was small but ample
speedy cycling her real passion
sunshine with screeching gulls

who could want for more
although immortally poor
she had her health and zest
for her this life was the best
anything less a compromise

but once enfolded in her room
her mind would quiet then zoom
calm would seep joy would creep
both speeds fed her daydreams
fast and furious or slow and quiet

contemplation was her occupation
yet didn’t pay a wage so leading
others meditations kept her sharp
community minded
injustices blinded

she tried her utmost to help others
but outcast by her different stance
her life choices sincerely enhanced
refused to act her chronological age
flexible of mind and body her wealth

dVerse, Amaya, movement … sorry missed Mr Linky but wanted to write one!


  1. There are many stats that we can fill to project our true age over our actual recorded age.
    May we all live as we wish with young hearts moving as much as we are able.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I used to ride 20-40 miles a day (I also did laps around my city on weekends). I had no choice because of family troubles and having to go to work. Cry, snivel, cry, complain, I know. Like you, I love riding, but I can’t do it anymore due to medicine. I love that you’ve found your passion in a beautiful place. Great way to relax and be inspired!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. […] Rhonda had been sexually abused as a child by a door to door salesman at three then her own brother at eleven raped by a mate at twenty her mother wouldn’t believe her had raised her sons as entitled white men women their mere servants to offer sexual favours […]


  4. You go, Rhonda!!! 😉 😀
    Great poem, Kate! Full of smiles and encouragement and truth!
    I am still “stuck” at age 5 and I refuse to grow up!
    OH, your photo is so beautiful! What a serene healing place!
    HUGS!!! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. This is full of movement. I remember I felt a littel behind the curve on learning to ride a bike, so many falls and fasle starts and not wanting to get on again for the abrasions. Then once it clicked and I sped round and round the cul de sac, amazed at the smooth and curving speed, not quite belieiveing it was me. This poem brought me back to that. Well done.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. A wonderful characterization. I love the idea of not acting our age (I like to do that every day) and also going with our own idea of what life is supposed to be like. I think we can learn from Rhonda.

    Liked by 1 person

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