Race Fight


Our Poem

Lengthening shadows, luminous light,
A cocktail of colours, shimmering blight.
Thundering hooves the some as by day,
Thrill of a wager on chesnut or bay.
The bookies call an eerie blend,
From the rowing crowds as they round the bend,
Excitement, electric high in the stand
Beneath the stars it's magic, it's grand.

Verse by Mary Lascelles

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