My race mascot is a bear named Placid
‘Why so’, I hear you would like to know.
I found him first with arms held above
like an Opera singer we all know and love.
A Mother’s Day gift from long, long ago
a daughter’s love this was given to show.
He doesn’t have a pretty face or silky fur
I turn to him with my problems to confer.
Arctophiles have little in the way of choice
with need to back up of their own voice
Placido say’s “Where is my suitcase for the trip”?
A second opinion in this way pretence will strip.
In terms of ‘Bear’ years he must be thirty five
looks older through abuse on which he thrived.
He’s much travelled and lived life to the full
battle scarred; his fur is ratty like steel wool.
A sports bear too with true grit and resolve
all sins told to him he will in love absolve.
A partnership is built on strength, trust and care
I say that nowhere, was there a better bear.
Years he rode drag under the saddle of my bike
when triathlon racing, we’d take a tagged hike.
He has been praised, admired and maligned
passing riders shout, “I love your bear behind”!
Once there as lookout, now he takes the lead
arms [DB1] aerodynamically held, we work to succeed.
Like a ships figurehead his brave chest puffed
with sterner stuff than most, is my bear stuffed.
Never time for inner trifles like fear or doubt
Over the top we go, into battle with a shout.
Every race is faced by my tiny bear’s valour
fur faded now from sun and rain to a dull pallor.
Age and experience in battle has taken its toll
his spirit and camaraderie help make me whole.
Doubt would not dare keep us from success
his bold soul knows that more, I know it less.
When fear of failure strikes in deep in my heart
Loyally built walls that strengthen us to restart.
Without that eight inch high little balding friend
there’d be tears as his soul to heaven I’d commend.
No comments:
Post a Comment