Deb the doyenne of the cycling team,
Lost in her eyes is a faraway dream.,
Cycling to Lapland or Katmandu,
It's nothing, it's easy - you wanna come too?
Long lithe
lean legs like a whirling windmill,
Whizzing away to the top of the hill,
Leaving the others to catch up behind,
She waits on a bench and explores in her mind....
Far in the
distance and round the next bend,
Cycling adventures without any end,
Trips down to Devon, excursions to France,
Evenings out clubbing a raving Deb dance.
Slowly and
panting the others arrive,
Glad that they got to the top still alive,
Legs all gone wobbly and faces that blench
At daisy-fresh Deb as she leaps from the bench.
Andy
Morley January 27th 2007
