Regent's Run Poem by Kris Viscardini

An early start at sparrow's fart
we get loose with orange juice and melon
and the odd jaffa cake, our hunger to slake.

Off to Old Street along the cold street
we make a beeline for the Northern line.
No eggs at Chalk Farm to do us any more harm
we walk past the zoo and queue for the loo.

We toe the line, just in time on the stroke of nine.
plodding around in a setting profound,
we join the other slow dorises as we pass the Slow Lorises
caged up in the zoo. There's a Bactrian camel too!
He's moving better than me and you!

We spot a poodle in a knitted green jumper
our four-legged friend is called 'Thumper'!

And on our last lap we are cheered on
by the eerie sound in strange keys
of the amazing Howler monkeys.
We're also spurred on by the kind words of the marshalls impartial
and the echoing strains of 'Thank you Marshall! '

Chris sprints for the line but just in time
Anna wins by a short head, both of us with legs dead.
We wobble away to get some water and a medal
for Chris and his daughter - it took an hour and a quarter!

Olly gets it done in minute forty-one
and fifty-three Fred strums his way around
making a happy sound,
He's a herald for Gerald!

We climb Primrose Hill enjoying the view then a cup of Typhoo!
Henry we meet out in the street
and head on to The Queens to have a good munch
on our Sunday lunch.

With chips and good chat and drinks as we sat
we had a great time in company sublime.
Let's do it next year
and have another beer!