Run No 1294
Sunday 20th May 2007 – The Fairy Glen, Snowdonia
Hares: Matilda & Sweetbreads
A LITTLE POEM from Tink-a-Bell
TO LOST INDIVIDUALS EVERYWHERE
The morning arrived cool and clear
As off o’er the hills we went
Buggering about o’er vale and dale
Wishing we’d stayed in our tent.
Was it a cross, was it a dot
Or a ring of anaemic pooh?
At every junction encountered thus
What the hell are we to do?
When we saw, way up in front,
Some other hapless soul
Then we thought, with gladdened hearts,
We’re gaining on our goal!
Whoever it was who came in first
We never stood a chance,
Strewn about across the hills
Being led a merry dance!
So remember all, who dare to tread
And follow those rings of flour
If they say it’ll take not long at all
You can bet it’ll end in a stour.
(Stour is dialect for turmoil)
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