Peddle fever (with apologies to John Masefield)

I must get out on my bike again, on the open road in the saddle,

With tyres tight and Lycra light and toes strapped to the peddle.

The rain may fall and glasses mist and vista’s dull and dim,

But lungs will fill to bursting, for the climbs so steep and grim.

So I must get out on my bike again, for the rush that hits the senses

The breath of wind on open skin and the excitement it dispenses. 

What I need is a trusty steed well oiled, both it and me,

And luck that I’m blessed with bon santé not any malady.

Yes I will go out on my bike again and roam as by my fancy

By well worn track or path not trod, even if bare and chancy,

And all I ask is a full hip flask, as a way to curb my fear,

And when days is done and race is run a lovely cup of cheer.