Billy’s Triumph

BILLY’S TRIUMPH

 

Billy rides his Roadster — Rocket III and Phantom Black

Three-cylinder 2.294 — Around the metal track.

Whaay! yell all the watchers as Billy’s bike speeds past,

Each one of them is deafened by the gusty exhaust’s blast.

 

He stops at filling stations to preen himself and pose

By his mean and moody Roadster, with hand on petrol hose.

Clothed in tight black leather, hair tufted with black gel,

Carrying visored helmet, he’s a warrior from hell.

 

Billy loves the wildness of a rugged mountain track

He’s game for any danger his Triumph will attack.

He leaps o’er bridge and water, skirts boulders great and small,

At crags he does not falter — the Rocket’s got it all.

 

Alas for poor wild Billy, while yelling loud yipees

He’s scuppered by a rival tup on Wasdale’s deadly screes.

Billy and his Roadster now face a watery grave

Fans dive into deep water… which do you think they’ll save?

 

G B Hobson