The starting gate, a burst of sound,
Unleashes fury, on the racing ground,
Horses thunder, with mane and tail,
Their riders urging, with a skillful gale.
The track unwinds, a serpentine course,
A test of speed, of strength and force,
The crowd holds breath, as they take the bend,
Their cheers and shouts, a deafening trend.
The horses’ muscles, ripple and shine,
Their hooves pounding, in a rhythmic line,
Their eyes fixed forward, with a fierce intent,
Their spirit unbroken, their will bent.
The jockeys guide, with a gentle hand,
Their mounts responding, to every command,
The wind rushes past, with a whipping roar,
As they devour the distance, and ask for more.
The finish line, a blur of color and sound,
A photo finish, with a winner unbound,
The crowd erupts, in a joyous cheer,
As the victorious horse, stands proud and clear.
