Sunday 19 January 2014

January 19: Christmas in July


We drove our car to Norah Head, last Christmas in July,
The bike stayed dry and in the shed as black clouds filled the sky,
It rained and rained and rained and rained, and then it rained some more,
Where once you might sight fifty Wings, on this day barely four.

We gathered in the kitchen, for bangers and a beer,
Some red, some scotch, some chardonnay, no discrimination here,
Out in the rain, a lonely tent, against the night it fought,
Against the wind and sheeting rain, its guy lines holding taut.

We chatted well into the night, discussing and digressing,
Til near to midnight said farewell, thoughts of sleep impressing,
On the minds of those who had, with foresight most impressive,
Swapped the cold, the wet, the dark, where flooding was possessive.

The next day came, the same, more rain, the outlook simply rotten,
Plans canned, ideas banned, the morning ride forgotten,
Except by some, intrepid few, who ventured forth into a day,
Of wind and rain, at last, some sun, til more rain came their way.

Late that night old Santa came, absent reindeer, without sled,
But not forgotten his favourite Elf, who held his hand instead,
Presents given and received, by that trusted Elf,
When all the team had got one, Santa gave one to himself.

Some red, some scotch, some chardonnay, have I told you that already?
Then the Taxman asked some questions, brains and pencils holding steady,
For a stream of Honda puzzlers, of which most had no idea,
Ten from twenty took the cash, no geniuses here.

The games came to a finish, and we wandered out into the night,
Hoping for our stalwart riders that the next day would be bright,
That the rain would go, and stay away, at least til they got home,
Coz there’s only one thing worse than rain, and that’s blemished safety chrome.

So till the next time that we meet, at Cowra or at the Snowy,
Let’s pray for sun and gentle winds, but Thredbo’s often blowy,
But it matters not the weather, be it rain or shine or wind,
Coz we’re GoldWing riders all of us, and we’re nothing if not thick skinned.

No comments:

Post a Comment