Mercurial, he dashes, sprinting like a cheetah
Through the muddy puddles in the park, he splashes.
Aiming to be future champ, gold medallist, world-beater;
Mercurial, he dashes.
He has no time, he says, to call his girl, or meet her;
Our conscientious would-be champion so brash is,
In his one-track mind, to call his training sweeter.
Though she has not won his heart, he won’t defeat her;
She disarms him with the winning smile she flashes
And swiftly, now won over, to her side to treat her,
Mercurial, he dashes.
C Richard Miles
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sprinter/
