Weathers for Leathers

Leathers by Al Cowie
 
This is the leather the biker likes,
And so do I;
When winds that buffet as struggling pikes,
And pummel thigh;
And the roar of the engine vibrates his chest,
And they idle outside ‘The Traveller’s Rest’
And wenches serve them beer with zest,
And riders dream of south and west,
And so do I;
 
This is the leather the German shuns,
And so do I;
When lederhosen chafe the Huns,
And sweat won’t dry;
And salty rivulets trace as snow,
And sticks to flesh like the claws of a crow,
And the rash from the heat that will grow and grow,
And even these Teutons homeward go,
And so do I;
 
I based the above on Weathers (below) by Thomas Hardy (rhymes and meters are the same)
 
Weathers
 
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at ‘The Traveller’s Rest,’
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.
 
This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I.
 
 
 
 
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