Thoroughbred Blues Poem by David Welch

Thoroughbred Blues

In a hallowed grandstand,
I do quietly sit,
high above the noise
and ruckus of the pit.
Staring out upon
a curving, long race-track,
as thoroughbreds set off
running races back-to-back.
Around me are sitting
a mannered, genteel crowd,
dressed up to the nines,
only deigning to be loud
when jockeys round the curve,
pulling hard for home,
and the losing bets first scream,
then so loudly moan.
I don't think they really care
all that much for the horse,
it's the gambling that brought them,
and brings them back for more.
It kind of reminds me
of NASCAR when I think
of all those horses turning left,
it's kinda the same thing!
But I don't dare mention that,
if I did these people all
would rush me with intentions bad,
claiming they're shocked and appalled,
I guess it's really not my crowd,
and next Saturday I shall go
down the road for a real good time
at the weekly, circuit rodeo.

Ride 'dem broncs! Y'aahhh!

Monday, August 13, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: horse,humor,light,observation
Julia Luber 25 June 2019

Refreshing and inviting to his local world. Fun.

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Richard D Remler 08 February 2019

strikingly vivid. I've never been to one, but you sure bring it to life. Great imagery. Very well penned. Keep writing.

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Matthew Holloway 22 November 2018

another well written verse....

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Susan Williams 14 August 2018

I agree with your assessment of the crowds at the race tracks more interested in the gambling instead of the sight of those gallant horses striving with all they've got to outrun each other, racing for the lead like they do in their pastures or in the wild. Ours likes to race the trains that pass his pasture several times a day.

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David Welch 15 August 2018

Horse racing trains sounds like a poem in itself!

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Bernard F. Asuncion 14 August 2018

David, such a fine poem👍👍👍

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