Gale Woods Farm Ride

We started in Wayzata, wheels to the ground,
The hum of our tires, a soft, steady sound.
Just the three of us, the sky painted blue,
A summer-day promise, pure and true.

The trail stretched quiet, the trees leaned in,
And laughter bounced off bark and wind.
We pedaled to Gail Woods, calm and wide,
Where fields rolled soft and time just sighed.

Our son pointed out every cow and tree,
His joy as bright as the sky was free.
We stayed a while, then turned around,
Back to the trail, toward hometown ground.

An ice cream stop—sweet, cold, and loud,
With sticky fingers and hearts unbowed.
Then thunder rolled from far away,
The sky let go its silver spray.

But we didn’t run, we didn’t race,
We smiled through rain on every face.
Wet shirts clung close, the path turned slick,
But magic held us—strong and quick.

Because some days don’t need to shine,
To etch their place in heart and mind.
Just wheels, and wind, and love that stays—
We’ll always have that rainy day.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved