Reborn With Love
They lie discarded, dead, forgotten
Motionless upon the ground
Waiting for the winter solstice
In the cold and wet to come around.
Some are big and strong with power
Could have held a bridge high up in the air
While others are an arthritic, thorny waste
Lying in a crippled disrepair.
Yet the motor bike, with chain and rope,
Treats each of them the same
Dragging each into the middle of the paddock
Where they'll meet their final flame.
And on that night they burn so bright
Reaching right up through above
And we all toast a wine to the earth
Giving rebirth with all our love.
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