Exhaust booms Montalto
Fleeing where stones grow
Room to hold throttle flat
As this Tarbottomed blat.
Running out of Christchurch
Head for hills of birch
Follow now Mr Lewis
Passing cars, all fun this.
Wet road for awhile
Dampens not my smile
Sun dry tar will come
Good fun to be done.
Off brake into sweep
On the gas, tyre creep
Out again hard I drive
Hit straight still alive.
Fingers cold, not numb
Summer gloves – how dumb
Rest of me toasty warm
Engine hums like a swarm.
Blue sky at Spring’s Junction
Late luncheon I’m munchin
Stretchin’ daddylong legs
Held captive by high pegs.
Time to push the button
Zoom past fields of mutton
And milk factories grazing
Ain’t God’s world amazing!
If memory be true
North to make Atapu
Over the saddle I weave
Toward Lizzy and Steve.
Years gone down like rand
Since time in foreign land
Nine years many changes
But no longer strangers.
Talk into the night
Old memories delight
To bed feeling drunk
Not from beers we sunk.
Fellowshipping like minds
Despite backgrounds all kinds
Nothing much more sweet
To my soul food like meat.
With fine food and friends
Our mistakes, life’s amends
I don’t deserve such
O Lord, thank you much.
Twisty ride to the ferry
Curves my lips merry
To Wellington harbour safe
And sister’s door like a waif.
;~pikipikipoet 