Farewell to this land's cheerless marshes
Hemmed in like a boar between arches
Her very Lowness with a head in a sling
I'm truly sorry but it sounds like a wonderful thing

I said "Charles don't you ever crave
To appear on the front of the Daily Mail
Dressed in your mother's bridal veil?"

---------------------------------------

This week I'll be mostly taking the road route again tonight. See you at the beginning. And the pub.

PT

Vive la Republic.

Royalty, road riders and half-arsed poets will be first against the wall come the glorious day.

Grammar pedants will follow shortly afterwards.

I'll be out tonight.

Peasant

There was an old boy called Pasty
Whose cycling was becoming less hasty
In an attempt to attend he rode off a bend
And ended up in the gutter ungainly

LOL i'm going to be out.

how about out passed the hospital, up t'roman road, along to Linton, Hildersham, Hinxton, Duxford, Whittlesford then Newton?

That wasn't too half-arsed.

You're spared.

No, he still wants shooting. His rhyming in the last line is just appalling.

Have another go, Eco, else I want 1000 lines "I'm not a poet and I don't know it" on my desk tomorrow morning. Off you go, there's a good lad.

PN

OR....

Street Way, Wilbraham, Newmarket, Bolton, New York, London, Paris, Munich, Newton?

....I'll get me helicopter.

PT (clearly working from home today)

PT,
if you are up for a challenging ride tonight, there is a police man doing a round the world challenge at the mo, he is only about 7 days ahead of you and is just passing through Spain at the moment, going west.

should only take a couple of hours for you to catch him, a rider of you cliber.


im sure we can all stump up for a couple of bags of pork scratchings to fuel you on your way.

Pat(working from work but clearly the boss is not watching)

Pat,

I bet he's not riding on mud tyres. What a lightweight!

Pork scratchings are (almost) always welcome, but don't let me sneak ahead of you on the corners.

PT

Eco was awarded the Wm McGonagall medal for poetry in 1986 AND 1988 I'll have you know.

Don't dis him.

Someone's Raided the Fridge of Queen Edith Way!
by Bilious McGone-again

Hooray! I am very happy to say
That an MTB rider has been taken away
On the first March day of 2012,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time by himself.

'Twas about seven O'clock at night,
And the wind didn't blow try as it might,
And the rain was not pouring down,
And the black clouds were not anywhere to be found,
But the Demon of the road was heard to say
"I'll not be riding off-road today."

When his bike left old Over
The rider's chest was warm and barely covered,
But the guided busway was all pitch black,
Which made his spokes for to clack,
And the trepid rider with fear did issue an edict
"I hope God will send me safe across the Bridge of Queen Edith."

It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the bus driver did laugh, and his passengers did bray,
Pasty falling off his bike that fine fine day.

Oh! ill-fated cyclist of Queen Edith Way,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That your Sunn Seasons would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had it been supported on each side with training wheels,
At least many sensible men feels,
And the stronger we our bikes do buy,
The more weight we to pedal have to try.

No poets were harmed during the writing of this post.

Seasons on the Sunn - an Ode to Pasty

Pasty you had joy, you had fun, cycling a season on your Sunn
but the beer and the song,
like the seasons, all have gone.
Goodbye, Pasty, my not so little one.
You gave me love and helped me avoid the Sunn.
And every time you were off road
you would always fall to the ground
with your feet stuck on the clips.
Goodbye, Pasty, it's hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky.
Now that the spring is in the air.
With the flowers everywhere.
I wish that you had grown some hair.
You had joy, you had fun, cycling a winter season on your Sunn
But the stars you could reach
were just chocolate starfish on the beach.

step aside Brenda, we've got some poets to deal with first.

Blimey! It's like I've gone back in time to middle school! Only this time I suppose the abuse isn't spray painted on the wall of the gym. (Fucking abusive gym teacher, he was. )

a dashing young fella called eco
impressed all the chaps with his speed, oh
but a short race with Matt
made him feel like a twat
and put a large dent in his ego

An amusing and deserved retribution - I like.

You lot have FAR too much time on your hands! Made me laugh though