70m Dash

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Sports Day at the primary school

The kids were 7 and 9;

They’d been at the school for 4 or 5 years -

It seemed such a very short time.


For dads there was the Blue Ribbon event

I always gave it a bash;

The ritual humiliation of

The 70 Metres Dash.


Now bear in mind that some of these dads

Were barely in their 20s,

While Muggins here had carried his bat

And made my first half century.


I’d first run this sprint 5 years before-

I thought I’d give it a blast;

I ran like the wind from gun to tape

And made a respectable last.


Similar results in subsequent years

Elicited standing ovations;

The crowd recognised that despite getting old

There’d been no deterioration.


Year 3 I ran like a galloping mare

(The fruits of my training I reckon)

And earned for my efforts a personal best

With a time of 31 seconds.


(For training I’d run a marathon

I didn’t finish last in it, neither!

I nearly caught that pantomime horse

But outclassed the deep sea diver).


But then I devised a masterplan

To help me succeed in the task,

And at 50m I stopped for a tea

Out of my vacuum flask.


I’ve got you puzzled by this strategy -

How can I be so content?

Of course I came last in the Dad’s Open Dash

But first in the next event.

◄ Colliers and Kids

Le Pere Fouettard ►


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Sat 25th Dec 2010 09:54

A reet funny read John. It reminds me of somewhere down South I used to live where the parents were all highly competitive. Men smashed into each other, women broke tendons and there was a lot of genuine cheating goint on (holding eggs on spoon so they couldn't fall off etc) - one woman even refused to be disqualified and got all uppity about it. It was amazing to watch. I always ran like the clappers mind cos I like to do my bit for the kids - but I never begrudged losing...

Your poetry is always so funny. x

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winston plowes

Fri 24th Dec 2010 21:44

Hi Pam, er John. Great Stuff... This sort of poetry needs to be spot on else it jars terrible, Lots of this supasses that mark, (verse 3 for example) Win X

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