Whale of a Snail Tale
Once there was a snail, by the name of John Whale.
He was much smaller than most as often he would boast.
“There are none so fast as me for there are none quite so wee.”
And with that he would race at a most glorious pace.
One lovely blue day John was racing by the bay
When sitting in the thicket he noticed a curious cricket.
“They say that you are speedy,” he spoke sounding quite seedy.
“Shall we put it to test,” chirped the curious pest.
With his pride on the line, John wasted no time.
He puffed out his chest and he bellowed with zest,
“You’ll have no smiling face once you’ve lost our short race.”
And with no more to say it was well time to play.
In place at the line they both counted back time.
Four, three two, one. They were off at a run.
John was going quite fast when the cricket ran past.
All the way to the finish his speed did not diminish.
The cricket had won and John Whale came undone.
“I’m too fast to lose. This is a joke and a ruse!”
He accused the poor cricket of fixing the ticket.
But the villain just chuckled as John came unbuckled.
“Do not feel so poorly,” chirped Cricket quite surly.
“For I knew I would win,” he danced with a grin.
And as he was leaving he added still teasing,
“You were destined to fail, John Whale. For you’re just a snail.”
And so John fell from glory, or so goes the story.
He raced not again and he kept not a friend.
He died old and alone and it read on his tombstone,
“Here lies John Whale. Epic Snail Fail.”
-a Poem by Tommy Papows
Whale of a Snail Tale
Once there was a snail, by the name of John Whale.
He was much smaller than most as often he would boast.
“There are none so fast as me for there are none quite so wee.”
And with that he would race at a most glorious pace.
One lovely blue day John was racing by the bay
When sitting in the thicket he noticed a curious cricket.
“They say that you are speedy,” he spoke sounding quite seedy.
“Shall we put it to test,” chirped the curious pest.
With his pride on the line, John wasted no time.
He puffed out his chest and he bellowed with zest,
“You’ll have no smiling face once you’ve lost our short race.”
And with no more to say it was well time to play.
In place at the line they both counted back time.
Four, three two, one. They were off at a run.
John was going quite fast when the cricket ran past.
All the way to the finish his speed did not diminish.
The cricket had won and John Whale came undone.
“I’m too fast to lose. This is a joke and a ruse!”
He accused the poor cricket of fixing the ticket.
But the villain just chuckled as John came unbuckled.
“Do not feel so poorly,” chirped Cricket quite surly.
“For I knew I would win,” he danced with a grin.
And as he was leaving he added still teasing,
“You were destined to fail, John Whale. For you’re just a snail.”
And so John fell from glory, or so goes the story.
He raced not again and he kept not a friend.
He died old and alone and it read on his tombstone,
“Here lies John Whale. Epic Snail Fail.”
-a Poem by Tommy Papows
Once there was a snail, by the name of John Whale.
He was much smaller than most as often he would boast.
“There are none so fast as me for there are none quite so wee.”
And with that he would race at a most glorious pace.
One lovely blue day John was racing by the bay
When sitting in the thicket he noticed a curious cricket.
“They say that you are speedy,” he spoke sounding quite seedy.
“Shall we put it to test,” chirped the curious pest.
With his pride on the line, John wasted no time.
He puffed out his chest and he bellowed with zest,
“You’ll have no smiling face once you’ve lost our short race.”
And with no more to say it was well time to play.
In place at the line they both counted back time.
Four, three two, one. They were off at a run.
John was going quite fast when the cricket ran past.
All the way to the finish his speed did not diminish.
The cricket had won and John Whale came undone.
“I’m too fast to lose. This is a joke and a ruse!”
He accused the poor cricket of fixing the ticket.
But the villain just chuckled as John came unbuckled.
“Do not feel so poorly,” chirped Cricket quite surly.
“For I knew I would win,” he danced with a grin.
And as he was leaving he added still teasing,
“You were destined to fail, John Whale. For you’re just a snail.”
And so John fell from glory, or so goes the story.
He raced not again and he kept not a friend.
He died old and alone and it read on his tombstone,
“Here lies John Whale. Epic Snail Fail.”
-a Poem by Tommy Papows