First Past The Post - The Grand National Poem by Ernestine Northover

Let’s bet on a horse
to finish the course.
Let’s win an amount,
to boost our account.
The jockeys are light,
and sunshine is bright,
The bookmakers shout,
All trying to tout.
Sleek fillies parade,
Fortunes to be made.

The stalls are all filled.
The thrills start to build.
They’re off down the straight,
not knowing their fate.
A few go ahead,
but most fall instead.
Excitement now mounts,
It’s winning that counts.
Just one lap to go.
Oh, gosh, what a show.

The race has been won.
Gee, watching was fun.
Celebrations now.
winner takes a bow.
The others, next year,
must move up a gear.
And try hard once more,
to even the score.
For first past the post,
what’s yearned for the most.

© Ernestine Northover