Monday, November 22, 2004
Riding in the Rain - I & II
Riding in the city rain
Can be a bit of a pain.
Take an oversized raincoat
But what you need is a boat.
Put on straight-line speed
And you got to take real heed.
Touch the skiddy disc brakes,
You'll end up in roadside lakes.
Try overtaking a big bully of a bus,
There'll be more than some fuss.
All he'll do is deposit some mud
And make you look like a dud.
With umbrellas, pedestrians will poke,
For them fencing is a big joke.
In the end what you get is a cold.
Maybe riders shouldn't be so bold.
Riding in the Rain - II
Riding in the country rain
Is the elixir for all pain.
It's great to get all wet,
With someone you'd have met,
On the road by the seashore
Can't ask for anything more.
When the rain kisses your cheek
Your knees go wobbly and weak.
Feel her holding on to you,
Under the canopy of grey and blue.
The machine pulsates with your heart
As if pierced by Cupid's dart.
When her hair swishes past your face,
Just hear the fuddled engine race.
On a rainy day, for such a pillion
Would I ride miles many a million.
The wind....
//Damn! Why do I always wake up at the wrong time?!
Management Class : Idylls of the Wannabe
Can be a bit of a pain.
Take an oversized raincoat
But what you need is a boat.
Put on straight-line speed
And you got to take real heed.
Touch the skiddy disc brakes,
You'll end up in roadside lakes.
Try overtaking a big bully of a bus,
There'll be more than some fuss.
All he'll do is deposit some mud
And make you look like a dud.
With umbrellas, pedestrians will poke,
For them fencing is a big joke.
In the end what you get is a cold.
Maybe riders shouldn't be so bold.
Riding in the Rain - II
Riding in the country rain
Is the elixir for all pain.
It's great to get all wet,
With someone you'd have met,
On the road by the seashore
Can't ask for anything more.
When the rain kisses your cheek
Your knees go wobbly and weak.
Feel her holding on to you,
Under the canopy of grey and blue.
The machine pulsates with your heart
As if pierced by Cupid's dart.
When her hair swishes past your face,
Just hear the fuddled engine race.
On a rainy day, for such a pillion
Would I ride miles many a million.
The wind....
//Damn! Why do I always wake up at the wrong time?!
Management Class : Idylls of the Wannabe
mental baba 12:31 PM