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#4374
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My bike’s unique (both of them)

A French friend of mine phoned one day,

and said “I bought a moto!”

‘Moto’? Well, that french for ‘bike’

twixt work and home to go to.



I had not owned a bike in years,

would not have bought one then,

except my friend suggested thus:-

“Go get a KTM”



No disrespect to Austrians,

but not really my scene.

Some bouncy, plastic, orange thing,

who’s engine’s taught to scream



I thought I’d got away with it,

was all way in my past.

then photo fell out of a book,

I had to stare and gasp.



Yes, it’s “Rusty” my old bike,

from many years ago,

I try to lay the ghost to rest,

but just can’t let it go.



Memories come flooding back,

an almost former life,

I’m grabbing at it with both hands,

I’m going to get a bike!



I’d love an ancient British mount,

but spares could be a worry,

so what about these ‘Enfield’ bikes,

made in the land of curry?



I take a look, wow! This is cute!

‘Woodsman’ tries to persuade,

took hardly any time at all,

before I found I’d paid!



I must have spent on top of that,

close to a thousand pounds,

to customise and make my bike

something to make me proud.



A quarter of a century,

since I had owned a bike,

I’m feeling apprehensive,

as I mount for my first ride.



The bike is eager, wants to go,

my riding? It’s not phased.

In fact the bike is ‘riding’ me,

I feel that I’ve been hazed.



Until I gain a bit more skill,

I wanted to go slow,

this bike needs reigns for handlebars,

so that I can shout “WHOA”!



The bike wants to ride on and on,

I almost hear it beg,

But have to stop now, look we’re home,

And there stands my friend Greg.





“Hi Scaleyback, this your new bike?

That’s something to be seen.

Although you’re so predictable,

I knew it would be green!



You want to call it ‘Thunderbolt’?

Then ‘blip’ it, let it speak.

Yes, OK! (Ouch!) I’ll second that!

I won’t hear for a week.”



I put my steed on centre stand,

then go and stand in front.

Hold indicators with firm hands,

to try and tame the lump.



Now what will this bike think of me?

and will I ‘Fit the part.’?

don’t want to piss my Woodsman off,

would not be a good start.



I think my ‘scaly-sense’ has worked,

the bike knows where it stands,

too bloody true cos with the mods,

Thunderbolt cost six grand!



My bike learns where I like to ride,

on roads and in the woods,

we get to know each others needs,

as bike and rider should.



You think this stories at and end?

Well sorry, you’re not right.

Cos it was four weeks later,

that something caught my eye.



Right there on auction internet,

a sight before my eyes

Old bike, five owners, seen many years,

An army despatch bike.



Fifteen minutes drive away,

The price was very fair,

Olive green with panniers too,

it’s picture makes me stare.



I have not one ‘home base’ but two,

this bike would serve the other,

This army bike’s a dream come true,

for Thunderbolt, a brother!



Off I go to see the steed,

It’s beautiful, oh my!

The last guy’s spent some dough on it,

ok, I think i’ll buy.



I try to use my ‘scaly-sense’,

to learn about the bike,

It seems it’s hopeful to be bought,

but feels betrayed inside.



This bike is old, can’t be impressed,

he’s seen it all before,

fifth time an owner’s sold him as,

“Not wanted anymore”.




My sense picks up the bike’s distress,

I try to help the pain,

to tell him telepathically,

“You won’t be sold again”.



“I know you’ve had a varied life,

been shunted to and fro,

You want to know your worth to me?

I’ve named you ‘Tornado’.”.



I don’t think that the bike’s impressed,

I can’t say that I blame,

He’s probably trying to guess how soon,

before he’s sold again.



The money paid, the deed is done,

I’ve bought this army bike,

The engine starts but feet feel strange,

The gears and brake not right?



“Excuse me mate, Where are the gears,

and also the back brake?

OK, I’m sure I’ll get the hang…”

I ride off in a state



First junction that I get too,

push the gear stick down to brake,

the bike is in a panic now,

I’m also in a state.



Somewhat alarmed, I stop at kerb

to practise which is which,

Thought I would be intelligent

enough to make the switch.



A year or more has passed since then,

he’s happier I know

he seems to tolerate me now,

which gives me quite a glow.



Oh yes, I take him greenlaning,

but only with great care,

And both of us try to avoid,

that trap “You wouldn’t dare!”.



Then just last week an error made.

we headed for the ground,

Tornado gripped and saved us both,

maybe he’s come around?



I have such fun on army bike,

He likes to have a ride,

But also likes to rest as well,

and watch the world go by.



The contrast is young Thunderbolt,

“Hey come and ride me please!”

He’d run you non-stop for a week,

Till your feet smelt of cheese.



Two bullet bikes, young Thunderbolt,

eager to please and go,

the older bike is more reserved,

that one is Tornado.







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#41692
Superb! Our resident scribe delivers yet again to
we jaded pundits. green literary petals floating
down, stanza after stanza! Next time trim that first
line, then we can include your efforts in our
anthology of promising Enfield sonneteers!

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