Thin spoked bicycle wheels
With double derailleur
Gear changers
Where then to go today
Where shall we go today?
Lonely
Pipe tobacco
And rolled up sweater
In the garden shed covered in dust
I've misread, you're all settled to rust
Instead I walk into my other valley
My imaginary abode
Out into the deeper country
Out among the poppy fields
With the oak tree, the ploughed furrow
By the trickling stream and the butterfly
This is the morning sun
And already the heat is on
By midday
The shopkeepers will be sat on the pavements
Too warm indoors
Too warm out also
A cold Guinness
A Jubilee stout
If only we knew what to expect
We, maybe
Could set out our orange groves
Without doubt
We could make our own marmalade
Instead we sit
Pity, we are in fear of the end
We await the return of the cloud and rain
The onset of autumn
We hurry along
On to the thrush of deep winter
Of another Christmas
A Blue Streak, two-wheeler
Dropped handlebar
Racing bike