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May 15, 2015

Cyclists

Tempers are frayed
After long days
In a slow moving gridlock for home

When a Lycra clad lads
Make a dash ‘cross the pad
You’ve been plying for years
Back ‘n’ forth

Standing high, Pumping pedals
In frantic reggae a Congo line twist on its way.

To the next set of lights,
plucking sweaty wet tights,
slipping sprigs as they’re off on their way.

Pedals pump in reggae
in their dash on their way
A Congo line colourful course.


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