At The Races Poem by Leaking Pen

Like a piloted star fighter she flew from the east,
A sight to behold like hunger to a festive feast.
As if the word speed was meant only for her legs,
And from her first win, the goose laid her golden eggs.

Greed or dreams to replenish my emptied pockets,
My last bet, my hopes I pinned on two bought tickets.
She raced like the swiftest wind and came in first,
My wallet fainted and my ego was ready to burst.

Odds were ten thousand to one by bookies on her win,
I followed blindly the crowds with cheers and many a grin.
For the first time in a decade predictions and result did line up,
And with luck on my side, I raised my champagne plastic cup.

Lesson not learned and one day I would deeply regret,
On how not to listen to common rumours while placing a bet.
Beginners luck folly would always temp my last earned buck,
One day with disappointment I'll be disproportionately stuck.

Today; however, I celebrate with fanfare my newfound joy,
And I splurge openly unlike a politician's two-faced ploy.

April 15,2013
Copyright Leaking Pen 2013
Rev Nov 3 2014