A Stremmelman

It was the day I saw a man,

A'comin' down the street.

He seemed to me the kind of man

That I would like to meet.

With big white teeth that blazed the trail,

It seemed to me he was the gale,

That lifted me up off my feet.

For swiftly by me he did blow,

On his double bike a'he did go!

It wasn't just the Stremmelman!

It was also Sam, who's not a man!

It seemed to me, by way of pedal,

That nothing in their life could meddle,

With the glee that they both surely share.

Both smiling in a way so simple,

Creating four big, charming dimple,

While streaming 'round them went their hair.

So I asked myself, in the ways we do,

what paths lay ahead of these happy two?

Will adventures abound, both happy and sad?

Will beasts be fought, or wolves be had?

Will slippers be lost, then found and refit?

Will wives be killed or wrists be slit?

Will their bike fly away to the moon with a creature?

Will they walk down gold paths in a motion feature?

For as they road past me with their smiles,

I had to sit and dream of miles,

And miles and miles and miles and miles,

They would continue to go with their shiny smiles.

Whatever road they chose to take,

Whatever story they chose to make,

The one important thing to know,

Is that they were the ones who chose where to go.

For it can be said you repeat the past,

But always remember that your word is last.

You choose the story in which you will live,

The words will be written that you wish to give.

So a new page was added to their book on that day,

In a great, displaced, sorta kooky way.

And I continued my walk while dreaming some more,

Of the places that we all will someday explore.

It was the day I saw a man,

A'comin' down the street.

He seemed to me the kind of man

That I would like to meet.

With big white teeth that blazed the trail,

It seemed to me he was the gale,

That lifted me up off my feet.