(To the tune of “The Happy Wanderer)
I love to go a-wandering, along the mountain track
And as I ride I pedal hard, my paniers on the back
Val-da-ree, val-da-rah,
Val-da-rah, val-da-rah ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Val-da-ree, val-da-rah,
My paniers on the back
I like to reach the summit, thought the effort makes me frown.
I must confess I much prefer to free-wheel coming down
Val-da-ree, val-da-rah,
Val-da-rah, val-da-rah ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Val-da-ree, val-da-rah,
My paniers on the back
One day I saw a pretty girl whose bike had broken down.
I sat her on my cross-bar and I took her back to town
Val-da-ree, val-da-rah,
Val-da-rah, val-da-rah ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Val-da-ree, val-da-rah,
My paniers on the back
Next day I bought a ta-an-dem, a cycle made for two.
Now, when I go a-cycling, she’s always with me too.
Val-da-ree, val-da-rah,
Val-da-rah, val-da-rah ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Val-da-ree, val-da-rah,
My partner on the back
A Kamikaze peddler
Who follows his nose
fluorescent green Lycra
A middle finger he shows
Slower than a snail
As wide as truck
Forget the highway code
He pushes his luck.
Side by side they pedal
Three or four deep
Then they become violent
If you give them a beep
They own the road
and there’s no mistake
Zip through red lights
No prisoners they take
Danger personified
Full speed ahead
And then they wonder
Why motorists see red.
The bike’s abandoned
He washes his hands
Peels off his Lycra
He’s got urgent plans
Jumps in his car
To go somewhere fast
A slight incline
He just can’t pass
In front is a pedlar
And It’s Karma at last.
David Cox 11/05/25
Drivers pay attention, you need to be more attentive, aware and alert
Distractions are very dangerous resulting in somebody getting hurt
Reckless drivers have drivers, walkers, joggers, and cyclist in a panic
Now leaving home for an drive, jog, walk, or ride can end in a tragic
There's plenty of areas to pull over to handle what can certainly wait
Allowing a distraction while driving can cause you to look up too late.
Every male child is a good cyclist,
Their rugged terrains toughening his wrist;
Some of them my students in the morning!
Not one of them a conceivable cripple,
All on purpose, Unstoppable People;
Their roads after rains remain slippery,
But Riding Philemon wouldn’t be jittery.
Their sons are all briefed about their palaver,
None could cry if one turned a cadaver;
To battle fronts marching without a boot
And still their enemies dropping with cock-and-shoot;
Those behind their burnt houses and deserted ones,
Their buildings with roofs that forfeited them at once;
Where for the first time a teacher ate Snake
And discovered that it was another cake!
7th December 2010:
Right now, he is eyeing another ten!
Your helmet on holiday
While on a highway
Will make Accident Demons busier
And a lot to the Devil easier,
Either party to fracture your skull
For man’s most feared call.
Blame-worthy of you confronting a bike’s gear
Without donning its defensive head gear,
Suicidal, your cycling round the urban
While choosing to not turban!
Helmet dangling on a bike’s handle
Makes same its unlawful wearer:
Some silly, unlawful death nearer…
A barefaced lighting of the Wrong Candle!
cyclist MIKE WHO FALLS OFF HIS BIKE--
There was a man named Mike
who used to ride a bike
he keeps falling, for petes sake
He made a mistake
guess he should have bought a trike
7/8/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
No matter what I read
No matter what I said
The listener never stirred in bed
To all he just appeared quite dead
Eyes blank and always open
Not a word from him was spoken
Through tubes the young man would be fed
He never blinked
Just stared ahead
What more about him can be said
Two days ago he was to wed
No safety helmet on his head
His girlfriend held him by the waist
His motorbike zoomed off in haste
At break-neck speed they lost their luck
On the right they passed a truck
So what more can we say today
In this state he'll always stay
His lover now has walked away
So young she'll soon foreget the day
Another guy will soon appear
No longer will she shed a tear
Under the bright sun
a cyclist zooming past all
Tour de France his dream,
on life's track he leaves behind
the dreaded cancer disease.
Lance Edward Armstrong
taught us to dream for new life,
cancer can be beat,
awarness is most vital,
so spread this message to all.
===========000==========
The hardest step is always the first,
you suffer for it like thirst.
The only company you have is pain,
but you march through it, for your reign.
You know its your ambition,
that drives your mission.
It doesn't matter who sees,
conquering mountains only frees.
Struggling fuels your desire,
obstacles set the fire.
Winning is the only option in this race,
not even an option is second place.
Muscles ache and burn,
the finish line is what you yearn.
The time is now, it can't wait,
it is time to go, and seal fate.
Give it all your strength and power,
you have more than earned this hour.
You know to enjoy the small things, like if the wind is breezy,
because you know, nothing in this world worth having comes easy.
Lean predators move along in the morning fog
in their yellow and black suits.
Wheels spin
and we hear the brittle hum
and buzz
of spokes, cogs and chains.
There is no courtesy bell,
or a chipper “on your right” as they
pass an older woman running on
the trail.
They, unconscious,
slide past on both sides
taking her by surprise and
stealing some of her breath.
The middle-aged mantis
in the lead
sheathed in a gray, wrinkled skin
determined, but selfish
to others on the trail.
As they coast on, the tick tick,
and click click of ratchets and pawls
is all we hear as the pale creatures
move forward through the morning
oblivious to all
but themselves.
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