The Fast Lane​

Upon a busy roadside edge,
Beside a green and bushy hedge,
A little hedgehog stood in fear,
For it had reached the time of year,
To learn her hedgehog highway codes,
And practice crossing busy roads.

“I don't know why,” she said at last,
“These things are moving quite so fast,”
“These things are cars, my dear,” said mum,
“They move the humans on their bum,
To every single part of town.
They like to travel sitting down,”
The little hedgehog looked bemused,
And said to mum, “But I'm confused.
Why don't the humans walk instead,
Of travelling in bits of lead?”
“I don't know, dear, but they just do,
So I am here to guide you through,
Your hedgehog highway code exam,
And stop you turning into jam,”
The mother promptly turned around,
And picked some items off the ground,
Then said, “Before we start the test,
Put on this yellow safety vest,
Make sure your helmet's fastened tight,
And place your goggles on just right.”

The little hog put on the gear,
Then mother said, “OK, my dear,
There is one thing you need to see,
That's shown to every hog trainee,
Watch closely, now, and please sit still,
While I perform the safety drill.”
Her mother counted back from five,
Then plunged into a headfirst dive,
And elegantly broke her fall,
By scrunching in a tiny ball.

She said, “If you get into strife,
This safety roll will save your life,
It’s saved the skin of many hogs,
From motorcars and beastly dogs.
OK, you’re ready now,” said mum,
“Your time to cross the road has come,”
The little hog stepped from the hedge,
And gingerly approached the edge.

— Her heart now pounding from her chest,
Behind her little yellow vest—
She looked upon the busy road,
Where lots of nasty traffic flowed,
Then, letting out a tiny fart,
She crouched into a sprinting start,

Her mum cried, “On your marks, get set,”
To this the little spiked brunette,
Raised up her bum into the air,
And, for a moment, kept it there,
Until her mother shouted, “Run!”
And her first road cross had begun.

She started off this deadly race,
What felt to her like rapid pace,
But hedgehogs don't move fast at all,
Their top speed is a measly crawl,
So while she felt herself go fast,
At least three lengthy minutes passed,
And to her horror struck dismay,
She hadn't even reached halfway.
By this point she had dodged a truck,
And almost got completely stuck,
Inside a plastic bag of lunch,
At that she thought, “Oh, thanks a bunch!”
The little hog ploughed on with grit,
And managed to avoid a hit,
Until a double decker bus,
— Driven by a man named Gus—
Came at pace around the bend,
At which point she could not pretend,

“It's been,” she thought, “a decent run,
But now I fear my days are done.
It looks for all the world to see,
That this will be the end of me!”
Her mother cried, “Don't just stand still,
It's time to do your safety drill!”
The little hedgehog sprung alive,
And in a flash performed a dive,
With elegance, panache and flare,
That shot her forward in the air.
She tucked her head into her chest,
—which tightened up her safety vest—
Then curled up neatly in a small,
And little yellow cannonball.

She generated such a speed,
I'm pleased to say that she was freed,
From ending like a flattened toad,
Upon this very busy road.
“Mummy look,” she said with pride,
“I've made it to the other side!”
Her mum then hoisted up the mast,
A big green flag that said YOU’VE PASSED!

The End