Time To Get The Bike Out

Nearly a year gone by
and in the shed I spy
the bike, still and out of use,
unavailable for road abuse

Insurance lapsed, MOT expired,
no tax and partially rewired.
Can I show at the annual meet
without it and admit defeat?

 

Is this really the end?
surely not, old friend.
Memories of a neglected hack
slowly come swimming back...

Starting technique, full choke,
lots of noise, clouds of smoke.
Blurred mirrors, tinkling sound,
long silencer, close to the ground.

Curtains twitch, ‘It’s that old git’,
‘Do you think he is mentally fit?’
They don’t know, they can’t see
how nice a motorbike ride can be.

Red light, change down,
past the camera and out of town.
Twist the grip, through the gears,
visor down to stop the tears.

Bright weather, quiet domain,
pleasantly scared, twisty lane.
All the togs, whistling air,
of life’s worries not a care!

Three more miles, going well,
burnt two stroke, lovely smell.
The joy of biking far outweigh
no matter what neighbours say!

Words & illustration by Ian Douglas