Like a bolt of lightning it did come
From the top of the hill near the Murray gum,
Wilbur's wheeled wardrobe built for speed,
Racing past where the dairy cattle feed.
There was Wilbur straining at the wheel
As he drove the clothes hanging cupboard with such zeal,
Modified by Wilbur with such inventive design,
Hoping to survive the steep decline.
Wilbur's helmeted head bobbing up and down
As he headed down the hill towards the town,
Perhaps by luck, or maybe divine providence,
He missed the posts and wires of the farmer's fence.
The hill flattened out as the decline unwound,
Wilbur coming to a stop in the middle of town,
Twenty kids came rushing to honour the feat,
Of Wilbur's wonderful wardrobe and the hill he beat.
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