THE SPEED RACER
My Speed Racer Cart is so dear to my heart,
But to drive it well, it’s certainly an art.
It takes me everywhere I want to go.
Sometimes I go FAST… and sometimes I go S L O W.
My trick? You’ll likely ask me why
I always start off on a mountain so high.
I’ll tell you the truth, so…you…will…know
Why I love to go fast and feel the wind blow
Past my head as I race, ears flapping in the breeze.
I steer straight as an arrow, until a BIG SNEEZE…
Which knocks me off course. I HIT some big rocks
My shoes fly away and I’m left in my socks
I energize my brain and correct my swift dash.
My cart is so good, all you’ll see is a BIG FLASH!
The trees whiz by in a torrent of fear.
I get to the finish and hear a GREAT CHEER…
That started some moments before I arrived,
For the guy who had won… who knew how to drive.
I saw him there standing in front of the crowd.
I tried to say hi, but the noise was too loud.
He noticed me standing all alone on the track.
With a big smile he came over and patted my back.
He mentioned he saw my cart go astray.
He said he wished he could have assisted in some sort-of-way.
He helped me find my shoes up the hill.
He dusted them off and we walked home until…
He gave me a hug, told me how much fun
It was to watch my very… first… run…
Down KILLER HILL on that day I was so bold.
He was glad he remembered I was almost as old…
As he was when he had first tried
The very same race… after which he had cried…
When his wheels fell off… and he slowed to a stop.
He felt so bad… it happened at the TOP…
Of the same hill where today we started the race,
Each thinking he would set a very… fast… pace.
We set down our joysticks; went down stairs for some food.
We had some good fun. I was in a great mood.
Now the race is over, and I am certainly glad…
That the winner of the race… WAS MY VERY OWN DAD!
No comments:
Post a Comment