The Hare and the Tortoise – A Modern Day Fable
¶ 1
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Ger McCarthy met Glen Crowe
Way down in Seville Place.
Says Ger, “I’ve heard you’re really slow,
You do not have much pace.”
Says Glen, “I’ll match you toe for toe,
Let’s go and have a race.”
¶ 2
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They got down on their starting blocks
Beneath the blazing sun.
Pat Fenlon stood upon a box
To better view the fun,
But Glen was pulling up his socks,
When Roddy fired the gun.
¶ 3
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Way Ger sped, a cloud of dust
A-trailing in his rear.
The slipstream made the crowds adjust
Their hats when he came near.
While Glen stood looking round nonplussed,
And slowly scratched his ear.
¶ 4
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Eventually Glen took a stride
And set off in pursuit.
The jeering crowd all loudly cried,
“Ah, doesn’t he look cute!”
And then he stopped again and tied
The laces of his boot.
¶ 5
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Meanwhile Ger had disappeared
Way out into the distance,
The form that o’er the hill careered
The fastest in existence.
Throttle down and fifteen-geared,
Not slowed by wind resistance.
¶ 6
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Glen however plugged away
And plodded onward slowly,
Ignoring those who chose to say
They thought him roly-poly,
And that his feet were made of clay,
[With adjectives unholy]
¶ 7
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Way ahead, Ger looked around,
And rubbed his eyes with wonder.
Glen was nowhere to be found
For Ger had nicked his thunder.
And so he stretched out on the ground
[Which was a fatal blunder.]
¶ 8
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Thus Ger McCarthy fell asleep,
And dreamt of Euro glory.
His slumber happened to be deep
His whole demeanour snorey.
While ever nearer Glen did creep
To spoil Roadrunner’s story.
¶ 9
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Past the dozing Ger crept Glen,
Being careful not to wake him.
The line was coming fast, but then
Composure did forsake him.
“Hurray”! Hurray” he shouted when
The fever seemed to take him.
¶ 10
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Ger woke sharply from his dream,
And looked around quite frightened.
He spotted Glen and it did seem
His jaw line muscle tightened.
Uttering a dreadful scream,
His facial colour whitened.
¶ 11
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He shot away, but oh too late,
Glen reached the line before him.
The cup was served up on a plate,
With hugs and kisses for him.
And as for Ger, oh fickle fate,
The crowd chose to ignore him.
¶ 12
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I thank you all for your good grace
In listening to my fable,
But if you think this tale took place,
You must be quite unstable.
For though were running out of pace,
It’s Shels who top the table.
¶ 13
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And though the gap is not so wide
And Bohs are coming creeping,
Its quite naïve to think a side
Like Shels will go on sleeping.
Our eyes will shortly open wide
And leave the Gypsies weeping.
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