Tuesday, 5 May 2015

To the wrong side of Pendle

My identity regained for an hour or two
The babe's at home with Dad on duty.
My steel French steed gleams in the sun
We head for lanes filled with spring beauty.

Blacko Tower looms, I freewheel beneath
On to tree lined roads dappled with light.
The shade a relief as the climbing begins,
A few breathers as my legs feel the bite.

I reach the top to see Pendle ahead,
The road silent, spinning forward, carefree.
A Dales vista opens up in the distance
A glimpse then the road drops sharply, weeeeee.

Cornering wide and feathering the brakes;
Bluebells, lambs, new views at every bend.
The world around livens, Sunday cyclists a-plenty.
Clitheroe Castle now in sight, I near the end

Beside the Ribble, past the cement works, the last leg.
One final climb through town to the castle gate;
Cherry blossom above, bright against the blue sky.
A big smile then a kiss, my baby and husband await.

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