Ode' to Neil
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Ode' to Neil
There once was a man on a bike,
Never found a trail not to like.
Up and down the hills he went,
His clyde legs never were spent.
His spokes flew ‘round the pi,
Spinning the pedals he did fly.
The jersey bright
The shoes clipped
Muscles bulged and lungs bellowed
On this site the man is fellow’d
So join him now on wheel’d steed
The cyclist is not a dying breed
For health and fun it has begun
A simple endeavor’s joy’s rung.
Never found a trail not to like.
Up and down the hills he went,
His clyde legs never were spent.
His spokes flew ‘round the pi,
Spinning the pedals he did fly.
The jersey bright
The shoes clipped
Muscles bulged and lungs bellowed
On this site the man is fellow’d
So join him now on wheel’d steed
The cyclist is not a dying breed
For health and fun it has begun
A simple endeavor’s joy’s rung.
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Originally Posted by JumboRider
There once was a man on a bike,
Never found a trail not to like.
Up and down the hills he went,
His clyde legs never were spent.
His spokes flew ‘round the pi,
Spinning the pedals he did fly.
The jersey bright
The shoes clipped
Muscles bulged and lungs bellowed
On this site the man is fellow’d
So join him now on wheel’d steed
The cyclist is not a dying breed
For health and fun it has begun
A simple endeavor’s joy’s rung.
Never found a trail not to like.
Up and down the hills he went,
His clyde legs never were spent.
His spokes flew ‘round the pi,
Spinning the pedals he did fly.
The jersey bright
The shoes clipped
Muscles bulged and lungs bellowed
On this site the man is fellow’d
So join him now on wheel’d steed
The cyclist is not a dying breed
For health and fun it has begun
A simple endeavor’s joy’s rung.
Save a proud rider on so proud a back....
Sometimes he bikes far off, and there he stares;
Anon he starts at stirring of a feather;
To bid the wind a race he now prepares,
And whe'r he bike or fly they know not whether;
For through his handlebars the high wind sings,
Fanning the spokes, the wheel rims and the springs.