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Thomas Mc Rae
[To Thomas Mc Rae’s index] [Back to the index of the New McGonagall’s poems.]

Poems by the New McGonagall

By Tomas Mc Rae, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia, ©1988


When I acted out the role of the World’s Best Bad Poet on the Walkways at Brisbane’s WORLD EXPO 88 I added a few poems of my own in similar genre.

Here is one I still remember.


Faithful Fido

(Should I be offended that so many McG fans think this is one of his?)

“Oh worthy knight on snow-white steed in panoply of pride,

Pray tell me why yon mongrel cur is running by your side?”

“Mock not that noble hound, young squire, for I would have you know,

That all the gold in Afric’ would not buy my faithful Fido.

He joined me as a puppy when I started this Crusade,

And in battles with the Saracens he’s oft come to my aid.

Full ten years in the Holy Land he’s run at my right hand,

And every word I say to him he well can understand.

My rusting armour you may mock or scorn my worn crossbow,

But you will feel my sword’s bright edge if you mock my faithful Fido!”

Five hundred weary Crusaders home their way did wend,

Marching on a journey that seemed to never end.

That worthy knight on his charger along with them did go,

And close to him at his right side ran faithful Fido.

Summer turned to winter, the streams all turned to glass,

When those battle-hardened veterans entered an Alpine pass.

And as they slipped and slithered piteously through the snow

Along with them slithered that worthy knight and his faithful hound Fido.

I am sure the poor beast could not understand,

Why it was not hot, like in the Holy Land.

Yet after his master he continued to toil,

Oh, noble Fido, hound most faithful and loyal!

Oh, for those courageous veterans this could not have been much fun

As through the icy pass they could not very well run,

Just stagger along though brave and bold,

In biting winds and ghastly cold.

But then an horrendous blizzard throughout the pass did spread,

And soon most of the Crusaders by it were frozen dead.

That noble knight and Fido survived the freezing blast,

Which did not end until nearly eight hours had passed.

Onwards went the survivors through the ice and snow

With Fido leading them and showing them where to go.

But alas, very soon, by unfortunate mischance,

Down the mountainside swept a ferocious avalanche.

Which rapidly killed every living thing that was there

Except for that worthy knight and Fido, his hound beyond compare.

Master and hound into the blinding storm did wander,

And the wind it blew so hard it nearly tore them both asunder.

Then the knight collapsed upon an icy shelf

Crying, “Oh, woe is me! I’m dying! Fido, save yourself!”

Frozen, weak and lacking all defences,

He closed his eyes and soon gave up his senses.

But thank Heaven! Fido refused away to go,

But seizing his master by the leg he dragged him through the snow,

Slipping and struggling along the poor beast passed

Over icy snow while braving the blizzard’s icy blast.

The knight awoke in a very hot room

And cried, “Good Heavens! I’ve died and Hell has been by doom!”

He sighed with resignation, but …

Then realised he was really in a warm peasant’s hut.

With concerned peasants standing all around

He asked them, “Prithee, where is Fido, my faithful hound?”

They answered, “Oh, noble Sire, full hard has been thy strife

In saving Thee Thy hound laid down his life.

He dragged you to our door a shivering piteous sight.

We think he must have pulled you through the storm all night.

But when we opened the door the poor beast was so tired

That he lay on his back, legs up, and rapidly expired.”

The worthy knight cried loud, “Oh, no!

For the storm has deprived me of my faithful Fido.

Oh, noble hound who stood by me in strife,

In saving me you laid down your own life.

Poor Fido who has thus delivered me,

Alas, never more in this world I shall you see!”

With racking sobs the poor knight was then tore,

But suddenly there was a faint scratching at the door.

And when they opened it who made the noise to see?

Faithful Fido wriggled in exhausted on his belly.

He slithered over to his master’s side

And obviously that was where he wished to bide.

The peasants all were overjoyed to see

Faithful Fido’s miraculous recovery.

Master and hound soon to full strength recovered,

During which time with affection they one another smothered.

Then they travelled home to England across the sea

And lived out their lives most joyfully.



[To Thomas Mc Rae’s index] [Back to the index of the New McGonagall’s poems.]


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