Emergency Poem by Irene C S ClarkHogg

Emergency.



Half a league, half a league, half a league onward,
Harry and Barry and Miss Tracy thundered.
Farmland and moorland flew past them in seconds
Many miles forward, their destiny beckoned.

People and animals scatter, chicks squawking.
Low in the saddle, no breath left for talking.
Horses hooves pounded and faces were glowing.
Tracy’s skirt blew up; her knickers were showing.

Intrepid heroes, astride their white horses,
Galloping onward, no veering from courses.
On through the valley, they rode on their quest,
Three gallant horses still doing their best.

Late was the hour and a pale moon was beaming.
Shops on each side, with large windows a-gleaming.
Into the town now, in sight was their target
A stirrup was lost as they sped through the market.

Up the long hill they then rode, three a breast
Reins to an ostler, the horses could rest.
Dashing inside, they all fell to their knees.
Loud the voice called out, “Time, gentlemen, please.”