if you go to near the results could be tragic”
Tis' a big shiny two wheeled Bagger, that is true
But tis' strange as can be when mixing a brew .”
The motorcycle run is planned far in advance
Worked and reworked like a fine tuned dance
The day is picked for the most punch
The sunniest day of the whole bunch
Bikers and bikes meet early that morn,
The report of bad weather they scorn,
But behold, the rumble so low
to the party enters the decker slow
On the saddle bags in murals proud,
The words of magic scare the crowd,
Among the painted clouds and thunder bolts,
The words strike like a pair of 45 colts.
Through the crowd so tough, a whisper of fear
“What the hells that one doing here!”
“it's not his wish of doing you know.
He is our friend, our brother, not our foe.”
Nay! Not the rider, the cycle of doom
For where it goes comes nothing but gloom.
It is said “if this one is on the bikers run
It than be only luck if you see the sun !”
Far off a lighting flash with the sound of thunder
More non believers now began to wonder
Up towards the clear blue sky they glance
Where sun light now among the clouds does dance
Thus stories are true upon the sunniest day!
