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Blokes on Spokes

Writer's picture: Dave GobleDave Goble

Updated: Aug 13, 2023

Two-wheeled Tootles in and around London


The Day of the Whippet

"I've lost my dog",

The old woman cried.

From the canal towpath,

On the other side.


"He answers to Speedo,

And his coat is grey.

If you see him,

Please send him my way".


Two tracked back,

And spotted the hound.

Giving chase,

He was gone in a bound.

For a wayward whippet,

Bikes were no match.

He even took a break,

Time for a scratch.


He found his owner,

Made his own way back.

We'd been happy to help,

If quite useless, in fact.


BoS March 2021


***


Fast Food

Emergency stop!

It's just a hunch.

A band of bikers,

Late for lunch.


BoS March 2022


***


High Jinks

You may be thinking "Amazing guys!"

Chances are you're not.

There's artistic licence at play,

Actually, quite a lot.


BoS July 2022


***


Boneshakers Malaise

I woke with a start from a dream last night,

With aching ankles and knees.

Riding an umpire's chair, with wheels,

That'll be new balls please!

The late eighteen hundreds,

Saw the end of their reign.

An extinction event,

Called the socket and chain.


In the meantime this tribute act,

Bombing down the street.

Gives a boneshaking nod to the past,

In a blur of pedals and feet.


BoS August 2022


***


But Wait ... Third Rhyme Lucky

Thirty miles of road and cross-country,

With light refreshments en route.

Fifteen miles in and the search begins,

For a venue with menu to suit.


Butties and a beer will fit the bill,

On that we speak with one voice.

Finding a village with three pubs,

We should be spoiled for choice.


But wait ...


Bitter's off,

At The Biker's Quaff.

And there's nothin' doin',

At The Cyclists Ruin.

Enough, wanting meddlers,

It's lunch at The Plucky Pedallers!

BoS October 2022


***


Mince Prize


I love a mince pie at Christmas,

Spicy, fruity and sweet.

Except I forgot my glasses,

And bought some filled with meat.


Raw minced chicken to be precise,

But I was blissfully unaware.

Adding to a pool of festive snacks,

On our bike trip for all to share.


Near Sloane Square we found a bench,

Clamped our bikes not far from it.

Eagerly anticipating tasty bites,

Not an urge to vomit.


Last to dismount I bore witness,

To the grim events that followed.

Disgorging of pies hither and thither,

Not a single one was swallowed.

To better understand I took a quick bite,

And faster still (bleargh) reversed that folly.

Buyer beware, (if needed, wear specs),

If you don't want to be a wally.


Were trophies given for foody cock-ups,

With a category for pies.

Reckon I'd be in with half a chance,

Of the podium for The Mince Prize.


BoS December 2022


***


Plump My Ride

A cycle ride to Brighton, why not?

Precautions there are a few.

Wear and tear on bike and body,

There are things that we can do.


Puncture is an obvious risk,

For which there is a kit.

Chafed bums and other sores,

Will more likely see you quit.


So take a thick fleece top,

It might just come in handy.

And a pair of Lycra shorts,

You’ll be fine and dandy.


When push came to shove,

There was no room for bluffing.

Those stretchy, roomy shorts,

Got one almighty stuffing.

The moral of this tale?

Consider what you wear.

When cycling long distance,

You may need shorts with room to spare.


BoS July 2020


***





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The Day of the Whippet


Third Rhyme Lucky


Boneshakers Malaise


Blokes on Spokes

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