It was an unusual race, the fancy-dress steeplechase,

It was global and everyone entered,

There were the rich and the poor, the wag and the bore,

The kind hearted and the bloody self centered,

All the horses were vast, some were slow and some fast,

Some young and some too old to canter,

And the costumes were varied, some smart and some scary,

With deerstalkers and bold tamashantas,

There were Knights of the Garter, and dashing King Arthur,

There were Mermaids with tailfins extended,

There were Dragons and Fairies, and a six-foot Canary

And all the contestants looked splendid,

When the starters gun fired everybody admired

The costumes, the horses and riders,

But none so impressed, as the woman that dressed

In the costume of Lady Godiva,

Oh’ she was older and fatter, but that didn’t matter,

She’d entered the race as a joke,

And it was only much latter that we all came to hate her

When it turned out that she was a bloke,

Of course we’d never have known if he hadn’t been thrown

And landed with legs all askew,

And a few women squealed, “Oh’ my God, is that real?

And surged forward for a much better view,

Meanwhile back in the race, they had quickened the pace

And a very high fence loomed ahead,

Well one horse refused and two more looked bemused

And just stood there, both shaking their heads,

But the others were clear, and the crowd gave a cheer

As old Daisy, the Dairyman’s grey,

Shot into the lead with a good turn of speed

That she never before had displayed,

Then some other rider came right up beside her,

And Daisy’s head turned just to see,

Right on a bend, twenty yards from the end,

She went headlong straight into a tree,

Now though most had forgotten, that old tree was rotten

And it fell with a deafening crack,

Blocking the course so neither rider nor horse

Could advance any more down the track,

But old Daisy the grey, though unconscious she lay

Was just twenty yards from the finish,

And the Dairyman swore that never, no more,

Would he let his victory diminish,

And with solemn refrain he took hold of the reins,

And he pushed and he pulled and he tugged,

And as old Daisy moved she was leaving a groove

At least six inches deep in the mud,

But his courage was strong as he pulled her along

And he prayed that his stamina would last,

Saying, “Come on old friend, it’s not far to the end.”

But then another horse galloped on past,

And as the whole crowd went wild, he cried like a child

Waving his fists in the air,

And kicking the grass, until he fell on his……. Pass

I’ll let you put your own words in there,

Though needless to say, old Daisy the grey

Awoke at the very last minute,

Unaware of the chase, or the pull, or the race,

Or the fact that she’d even been in it,

But the winner was proud, held aloft by the crown

And carried round to the beginning,

Till some bludger from Perth let him fall to the earth

And ran off with the poor fellows winnings.

By S.E. Ralph

15-4-2006