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Claire O’Brien has sent in this wonderful poem. Thanks Claire, keep them coming…

Superman

Fingers flex in gloves prepare to fight,
pedals fusing feet to wheeled machine,
helmet arrows bike to deco flight,
no brakes or gears to intervene.

Like actors in the Globe once tread the boards,
track cyclists, performers in their own theatre,
hear the same roar of crowded hoards,
as charioteers in a Roman amphitheatre.

Or like dice which roll in a Monaco Casino,
as they wheel their game of tense roulette,
the time recorded on a neon chrono,
wooden banking shiny with their own sweat?

But this is no game of chance! Such synchronicity,
so hard to grow from boy to man.
Train to be master of his own destiny,
to seize the winning moment while he can.

The planets spin their mystical trajectories,
perpetual motion pre-ordained since time began,
and blood is racing through veins and arteries,
the circle of life revolves around the sun.

When Icarus spread his wings in heavenly flight,
the gods looked down and frowned at his audacity.
When Achilles sprung his heels in fright,
he was punished for his perspicacity.

So Graeme Obree, with athletic ingenuity,
used laws of science to forge his Pegasus.
A Galileo, he defied authority,
and stretched his arms to fly the Universe.