Ronnie liked a lengthy run
Early morning, just for fun
Sun or rain, Snow or fog
Nothing stopped his daily jog
The fog that day was thick as smoke
Not a prob for our fit bloke
The cliff top path was straight and true
The fog, for Ron, was nothing new
But the mighty Ocean spray
Had washed that lofty cliff away
That soon stopped his reverie
They found him floating out at sea
The papers quoted Ronnie’s wife
“Running had been Ronnie’s life”
The hearse moved at a slower pace
Now Ron had run his final race
Photo credit: Burst via Pexals.com
A Badly Chewed Pencil 
Could he possibly have had better traction if he was wearing a different sort of shoe? A plimsol, perhaps? Well, probably not.
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You just HAD to mention the plimsole!
Tsk… Now I’m going to have to write another episode…. Just when I thought you’d all forgotten about it!
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How could I possibly forget? I haven’t read a story quite like it ever before.
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No-one ever forgets the plimsoll. I pray that I never appear in one of your poems Chris – they seldom end well… 🙂
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