bricycle
I'm the Wiz, and nobody beats me!
“Twas the night before Portland”, (‘pre-war style)
‘Twas the night before Portland, and all through my shed
Not a post-war was present, I had nothing to dread.
The wood wheels were hung all in order by pair
In hopes of singletube tires to snare…
The pre-wars were nestled all safe in my van,
all I needed to find was a battery can…
My spouse in her jammies, and I in my grubbies,
Still looking for my missing Carlisle rubbies.
When what in the he-l on earth did I hear?...
It sounded like a Sturmey stuck in first gear…
So I halted my packing, and ran to the door,
I bounded ‘oer frames and fell to the floor.
On rising up wiped the dust from my eyes,
And when they cleared, was I in Surprise!
I wasn’t quite sure, so I put on my spec’s
there was a sleigh towed by a ’85 Rex!
With a spry age-worn rider with a hideous grin,
It could have been even old Arnold of Schwinn…
He cleared out his throat and turned ‘round about
dove into his gigantic sack and came out with a shout…
“Here’s a Victor, a Pope, Iver Johnson and more,
a Columbia, Excelsior, Harley and Thor”.
From the base of the floor to the top of the walls
He piled up bikes, and said “keep ‘em all!”
There were klaxons, sirens, Gangways and hubs,
Delta’s, and Seiss, and teacups by the tub.
Crossbars, Torringtons, Troxels and more,
Toolbox type tanks and rear racks galore!
He was quick as a flash as he went to his duty
and finished dumping the rest of the booty…
Then laying a hand on his handlebar grip,
said he was just about done with his trip.
Then mounting the old Rex and sleigh there in tow
off on his next goodie drop-off he did go..
and as he pedaled off, out into the night
shouted Merry Christmas to all, and treat you bikes right!
‘Twas the night before Portland, and all through my shed
Not a post-war was present, I had nothing to dread.
The wood wheels were hung all in order by pair
In hopes of singletube tires to snare…
The pre-wars were nestled all safe in my van,
all I needed to find was a battery can…
My spouse in her jammies, and I in my grubbies,
Still looking for my missing Carlisle rubbies.
When what in the he-l on earth did I hear?...
It sounded like a Sturmey stuck in first gear…
So I halted my packing, and ran to the door,
I bounded ‘oer frames and fell to the floor.
On rising up wiped the dust from my eyes,
And when they cleared, was I in Surprise!
I wasn’t quite sure, so I put on my spec’s
there was a sleigh towed by a ’85 Rex!
With a spry age-worn rider with a hideous grin,
It could have been even old Arnold of Schwinn…
He cleared out his throat and turned ‘round about
dove into his gigantic sack and came out with a shout…
“Here’s a Victor, a Pope, Iver Johnson and more,
a Columbia, Excelsior, Harley and Thor”.
From the base of the floor to the top of the walls
He piled up bikes, and said “keep ‘em all!”
There were klaxons, sirens, Gangways and hubs,
Delta’s, and Seiss, and teacups by the tub.
Crossbars, Torringtons, Troxels and more,
Toolbox type tanks and rear racks galore!
He was quick as a flash as he went to his duty
and finished dumping the rest of the booty…
Then laying a hand on his handlebar grip,
said he was just about done with his trip.
Then mounting the old Rex and sleigh there in tow
off on his next goodie drop-off he did go..
and as he pedaled off, out into the night
shouted Merry Christmas to all, and treat you bikes right!
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