Carol couldn’t be here this morning,
So I had to take her place instead
(And here I make a little warning:
List might have some mistakes there imbed).
Too many people, so my memory,
Being quite limited, could not carry,
All the names alone,
But with a handphone…
We rolled out at five on the dot,
“Recovery” was the ride’s one plot,
Easy at first was the pace,
There was no one to chase,
No one tried to break away,
On this week’s last working day.
Till we hit Sembawang Hill,
James took to the front and pulled.
Not a pace that’s meant to kill,
Yet it had so many fooled.
A few of us did tag along,
Plunging (yes!) into this headlong.
I was right behind James at first,
Saw Aaron coming up behind.
Matthew came up with a quick burst,
And then Raymond too (quite streamlined).
Melvin made up the last of the fugitives,
Freedom and liberty were our core motives!
We stayed away until Mandai Shell
(Yes indeed the feeling was quite swell),
And everyone regrouped
(Some of them looked quite pooped),
Before we rolled out again
(I vowed to go slower: amen).
Rolling along slowly down Woodlands Road,
I turned and saw Charlotte just behind me.
I thought: “Why is she having me shadowed?”
When we stopped next, I said to her gently:
“I could smell you behind me from in front.”
(My, oh dear, was that terribly blunt?)
The reply: “You’re going to pull me today.”
Matt had to chip in, putting things his way:
(and here I grossly paraphrase)
“Smelly or fragrant? What arrays?”
Keeping quiet was now the best option;
Don’t offend a woman: that is gumption.
Then came another light, and there we stopped,
Someone came up by me, and there she plopped:
It was Rynnette (that woman called “Red Hot”),
Telling me that to ride long she could not,
For she was tired,
What she desired:
To go back to sleep,
Into bed she’d leap.
Then that was the last I saw of her,
To leave her to take a quick snoozer.
Coasting along a long downhill stretch,
I rode by Liz (whom I did catch),
And there she wasn’t pedalling,
Speeding, leaving the road sizzling,
“When going downhill, pedal hardest!”
I shouted, “for it’ll get you farthest!”
Then Keppel flyover was not distant,
Me and Melvin took our place at the front,
Leading a joyriding pair of lines
(Yes we played the role of pulling bovines).
From behind arose an incessant chatter,
Breaking the silence, givin’ it a fracture:
I turned behind: Evelyn and Baoying
(And I hoped they would not start to sing).
To Melvin I said: “You know what this means?”
(I wanted to say: “Woman. In their genes.”
Of course I was just kidding,
These girls were merely talking).
“No,” he replied. “What is it? Pray tell.”
“The pace is too easy, let’s give them hell.”
And off we went, the speed ascended,
Then of course, the noise descended…
Rolling through the CBD,
I asked Victor where was he.
“Dropped my bottle,” he said.
“By then you two had fled.”
Liz came by and said she took my advice,
Pedalled hard going down, that did suffice,
Burning the road with her three-o-threes
(How I wish I had wheels just like these).
Joyce and others went for breakfast,
The rest, towards home we focused.
So that’s the ride, the end of my verse,
Back to my sleep, in it I immerse,
To dream of another joyride,
The one whom I’ll ride beside,
And look towards next week,
Another ride I’ll seek.
Ho Wenrui
08 May 2009
