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,
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.
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