His Triumph Motorcycle Stood Bold & Brave

  • ONCE LONG ago, locked in a shed,
  • Was a great Trumpy, very near dead.
  • Bruised and battered, feeling forlorn, 
  • For her Master she did yearn.
  • At the same time in a place far away,
  • A young man was dreaming of the day,
  • When he and his steed of steel,
  • Would once again, freedom, feel.
  • So without delay, a ticket he did buy,
  • A first class, one way berth,
  • For his bike on the fastest train,
  • From Sydney to Perth.
  • At last the waiting was ended,
  • Everyone thanked for services rendered.
  • Time to take her off the train,
  • And home to make her look like new again.
  • Into the workshop she did go,
  • Pieces of her flying to and fro,
  • Outer shell taken off piece by piece,
  • Some dipped in oil, others packed with grease.
  • When she was stripped and laid all to bare,
  • Time to see which parts needed repair.
  • Not willing to seal her fate,
  • She was shipped to specialists all over the state.
  • Slowly the pieces filtered back home,
  • Her motor all like new with the shining chrome.
  • Why! You could hardly tell,
  • That these here parts had been through hell.
  • After many hours spent working in all sorts of weather,
  • She was finally assembled, completely together.
  • Who would have thought that just a while back,
  • This gleaming steed was a broken down hack.
  • There she stood, bold and brave,
  • In her shiny new coat of lacquer and glaze,
  • Paintwork performed by her master himself.
  • He hadn’t lost his touch, though his gun was left on the shelf.
  • And if you’ve never seen a man beam with pride,
  • Just be there when Doc takes his very first ride,
  • I’m sure you’ll find in those sparkling eyes,
  • A tear or two, as there was in mine.
David ‘Doc’ Somerville

For David ‘Doc’ Somerville: 13 February 1961—13 December 1997: We won’t forget you.

Article by Lee Crawfird

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