Black ear warmers
Slid sweatbank like on head;
Lycra suit
Thin and looks a little
Daft over my frame;
Fingerless gloves
Slide smoothly
On my wrist.
Next wind vest,
Gossamer protection on my chest.

Wear the helmet,
Check the tyres
Raise the seat
Oil the chain
Start the lights
Shut the door
Ride.

Stars gleam overhead
The milky way,
Hid by city lights;
But Orion’s in his saucepan
And Sirius, he beams while
Canopus, he steers;
I am away!

Wind whistling
Tingles in my fingers past my gloves
Air flowing, churning
Feet winding, turning;
Hilltop climb
(A little one)
Then fly down with lights ablaze
And brakes afire.

Upon the path and all is dark
Except rivers of sight
Provided by the lights
Waterbirds and frogs are calling
The duck, the ibis and others
I can’t tell
Beside the way.

Gentle light
Flows upon the pool.
Gleaming covers cast
Across their watery edge;
With no takers in the cold;
Not even ducks
In wading pond this chilly morn.

Weave down narrow hill path
Ride across some roads
Wave branches aside
And duck my head
Until I’m past
And back on roads
Before the bridge.

I climb
Over the railway line
Upon the bridge
With twisted turns.
A train is there,
It sounds its horn
And makes me jump.

Daylight shows the golf course
In chilly morning gleam
With fences high
And flags that fly
Above the greens
That hopefully
They hit.

Now I’m on the flat
And other cyclists
Joining in
They call to one another.
“Passing” is what they say
When they’re not
Screaming out abuse.

Next down upon the river
And I turn to go upstream.
Some boats are there
Skimming on the water
Like mozzies on a pond.
Planting eggs of ripples
As they move along.

Rise to journeys end
Past pub and brewery then
I pause and rest
To catch my breath
And climb the step
And work collect;
Before ride at end of day.

© G.Burns 2-Jun-2012