Slow, Slow, Quick, Quick, Slow! Poem by Denis Martindale

The horses wandered round and round, some skittish, some serene,
But soon they'd pound the solid ground as it had always been.
The starting hadn't started yet, so most of them looked calm,
Not so, the gamblers who just bet the house, the car, the farm!

The horses settle one by one before the race begins.
Before a single furlong's run! Before the winner wins!
So, whether it's a sunny day, and temperatures get hot,
The horses bide their time and stay! Right there, upon the spot!

But suddenly, the calm mood changed, and tensions filled the air,
Like everything got rearranged to make the horses stare.
The time had come, and run they must, for all their worth and more!
Not knowing which ones they could trust, since nobody felt sure.

That's why they run to take the lead to stay clear of the crowd,
The bravest and the fastest steed then does what it's allowed.
To streak ahead, full stretch each stride, not crammed in, way too close,
But run instead the fastest ride that every expert knows.

There may be other horses now, but one horse beats them all.
The only horse God could allow, the one who now stands tall.
And once again, the horses move as slowly as they can,
Because they've nothing left to prove to either God or Man.

And if the day went well indeed, no gambler faced alarm,
Who bet their all because of greed, the house, the car, the farm!
But woe to those who lost the lot! No more to smile again!
Today, they know they're in a spot, those poor, misguided men!


Denis Martindale.1st July 2025.