with poetic rhythm it is the galloping sound
the excitement from the crowd is intense
three in a row reaching towards the fence
frothing mouths, chomping on the bit, they thirst
who wants it the most and will land first
in full flight muscles rippling they are stunning
this athlete is brave and intelligent and lands running
as they gallop away I wonder who the victor we will hail
with rolling hindquarters and a tempestuous swish of the tail
I see their snorting nostrils inflamed with air
some attack the birch, some are careful and some with flair
ears pricked and a wide eye with concentration and will
we cheer them on like gladiators they reward us with the thrill
in the Sport of Kings we will worship them, of course
always deserving of our adoration is the racehorse
0 Comments