TOUR DE FRANCE 2012

Injured knees,

Pyrénées.

Pick up speed,

Take the lead.

Helmets on,

Peloton.

Paris, Rouen,

Besançon.

British Brad,

You’re the lad.

Zoom, zoom,

Come on, Froome!

Their ambition:

First postition.

Annihilate

Your team mate.

All through France

Riders chance.

Muscles aching,

Lycra chafing.

Breakneck pace.

A podium place.

Mountain top,

Don’t you stop

‘Til you’ve got

The yellow top.

Pedal more.

Spills galore.

Saddle sore.

Bonjour! Bonjour!

Who will win this year’s Tour?

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About Alex Barton

www.newsrealpoetry.wordpress.com
This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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