Their once was man from Westbury town
Who did like to roam
To go Here there every where and go
And Roam he did roam
He would ride ye old adult Trike Many
a mile and place to go and
Trying to be the best that he could
Just to roaming to find space
He would get his gear and go and ride
up and down the trail
North and south until he hit the end
Then his Trike brakes wail
Then he would just start all over again
to ride for many a day
And mile just to see greener side of life
and to get fat to stay
of thy belt and off of his waist
Riding will help thy waistline
to make a man strong and to go on
and to keep the fat inline
he will ride the North County Trail
Will ride up to Bethpage
This not out of the normal realm
He is not the royal sage
I will go roam and roam I will
up and down the line
till tire screech and I will meet
my pap for supper time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very enjoyable! Timothy