a poem by Edwin Keith Jepson, UK - poetry writer, author, poet

The horses are at the start
There may be forty or more
And the starter gives his signal
And the crowd let out a roar
They all jump the first fence in style
But the jockeys know theres another four mile
At the canal turn a few fall down
And some spectators look on with a frown
And most of the crowd dare not even look
As horses and jockey approach
Beeches Brook
At this fence many hit the ground
Whilst the lucky ones are racing sound
Theres another circuit
And a sigh of relief
But not for long
Giving the owners grief
Now theres two more fences
And they are on the run in
The crowds are cheering
They dont appear glum
For out in front
Is brave Red Rum
If he wins this race
Its three in a row
And how he does it
We will never know
Racing to the line
He holds them at bay
And the bookies are not happy
Its the punters big day
How Red Rum keeps on winning
Is a mystery
But as long as theres a Grand National
Red Rum will go down in history

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