July 7: I wish ...

Like sand the feeling irks me, as it irritates my eyes

My skin is warm and comfortable, the sun it fills my sky

My feet they are so tired, though my RM’s fit so well

I’m on the train going home again, as this story I now tell

It’s my everyday tradition, I find a seat and then I doze

Up at six, home at seven, it’s like a lifetime in these clothes

My white shirt is so crumpled, it’s creased but looks so fine

Another waits there so pristine, waiting patiently in line

It’s winter here, and the sun sinks fast, and then it’s here, the chill

Afternoon so quickly turns to dusk, the sun’s gone o’er the hill

The tracks out through the city, through the suburbs, way beyond

I drift off to the music, to certain genres of which I’m fond

I yearn a pastime that does not need, constant preparation

I want to ride my motorbike, all around this wide brown nation

I want to have the freedom, to do what best I like

As I hitch my trailer, lower the visor, and throw a leg over my bike

I want to see a sunrise from a white beach way up north

Then watch it as it disappears and the moon and stars come forth

I want to watch the country side as it lines the roads I ride

The feeling is sensational, a sense of peace I have inside

Some might sense an oxymoron, on my bike and so at peace

But I tell you all it’s out there, my flat six gives me that release

A smoother ride you will not find, there’s nothing more to say

And when I stop, an ice cold beer, brings utopia to my day