Poem – The Racing Pigeon’s tale. 15 April 2021.

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The Racing Pigeon’s tale (c) Kevin Jones 2021.

The Racing Pigeon’s Tale

My name is Golden Wonder better known as Flash,

My owner purchased me some years ago with a bundle of cash.

Now my owner was Stan who loved all living in the loft,

He was a retired miner and walked with a limp and bronchial cough.

Stan would spend more time with us than her dear wife May,

He would clean us, feed us, fly us all throughout the day.

The big time for Stan though was when we were sent away,

On a Saturday we would be loaded on a special “pigeon truck” and then set on our way.

We would race home as fast as we could with Stan calling us home,

Sometimes these races would just be on land but others over “foam”.

When we got back Stan would record our time on a special clock,

Stan would jump up and down saying “we must have won this time cock”.

Off to the local miners’ club we would gather for the result,

Stan would ease his nerves with a pint of rich black malt.

Then the microphones was tapped “silence all around the room”,

“The winner is – Golden Wonder” – handshakes began to loom.

Stan was very proud of the little cup and twenty five pound prize,

He took off his old flat cap and wiped tears from his eyes.

This was the greatest day in old Stan’s life as it put us in the national,

The FA cup of pigeon racing with bets being made – irrational.

Then one morning Stan did not appear,

He had gone to meet his maker – something We all did fear.

Stan always had an awful cough bought on by coal dust and the fags,

So off he went to meet at the heavenly pigeon club with some old comrades.

His young grandson Charlie kept us fed and with pots of water,

He would be allowed to occasionally let us fly by his Mom – Stan’s daughter.

His love for us got stronger and he sits within the loft,

He is taking up the hobby like his Grandad – he is pigeon soft.

Charlie now visits every day before and after school,

He has studied the rule book – so he is no fool.

Uncle Jim, Stan’s brothers son, takes him to the club.

Where they all talk about pigeons and pay their three pound sub.

Pigeon racing for that family will continue as a “curse”,

Charlie will spend far more than earned by every single purse.

But does it really matter when he does something he loves?,

Maybe he will reach the national with Stan’s heavenly tailwind shove!

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