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Ode to a Bike Bobbler...


wrestleantares

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wrestleantares

I see you on your bike festooned with chrome

I see the tiny helmet on your dome

 

I see you lift your hand to wave at me,

Now I see your bike begin to weave.

 

Please slow and take that curve upright,

Your shaky lean gives me a fright.

 

Don't stop and drink at those bars,

All around are two ton cars.

 

I love your really shiny bike,

But perhaps you're safer on a trike.

 

I'd hate to stop for you dear bobbler,

After your brains are turned to cobbler.

 

But, yet there is worse than a bobbler on the roads,

It's spring now, -- they come in droves.

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