Bucking Bluey

Bucking Bluey
 
Richmond seemed a likely place,
To ride a river trail
To the old historic bridge,
Accessed behind the Gaol.
 
From the carpark to the bridge
The path was smooth and wide,
With green foliage overhead,
Grass by the riverside.
 
Ducks waddling by the river,
Watched people wander by,
In that near perfect setting
I spot a dragonfly.
 
The Supascoota hummed along,
With Joy strolling beside,
The warm sun shone from above, -
When the bridge was espied.
 
The old sandstone structure had
Withstood the test of time,
Spanning the River Coal,
A bridge now in its prime.
 
We took a magic photo
As all the tourists do,
Sat and watched the tiny fish,
All swimming into view.
 
Diverted down another trail
Along the riverbank
A very peaceful setting, -
When my spirits sank.
 
I had named my scooter Bluey, -
It’s painted blue of course,
I explore the bushland trails
Upon my iron horse.
 
The track had suddenly changed
Tree roots blocked right of way,
Bluey would not ride across
The obstacle that day.
 
Instead, the front wheels rose high
When throttle was applied,
Torque thrust Bluey skywards,
I could not stay astride.
 
I fell backwards to the ground,
Bluey landed on top,
It all happened in a flash,
Ground hit me with a whop!
 
Joy quickly rushed to my side
Said, “Are you OK Bill?
Do not move, we’ll get you free,
For now, you just stay still.”
 
Onlookers rushed to the scene,
Lifted Bluey aside,
They helped me regain my feet
And once more sit astride.
 
I landed on my shoulder
No doubt that it is bruised,
My pride was somewhat dented
When to my car I cruised.
 
I will ride another day
On the Supascoota,
I now call, ‘Bucking Bluey’,
After this adventure!
 
Bill Edmunds
January 2024
billedmunds.com