Thoughts of a Disgruntled Punter

Lay the filly causing a mess,

The owner is under duress;

Take that slow nag to pastures roam,

If the ambulance beats her home.

 

They say a new prophet is sworn,  

Surely not in a stable born;

On the gallops they dance and weave,

But most of them simply deceive.

 

I had a bet the other day,

Expecting a mare to make hay;

But the stewards, they’ve done me in,

Mulling over their quarts of gin.

 

When will the punters ever learn?

Don’t back a Jolly out of turn;

For once I did, down on my luck,

And ended up without a buck.

 

And still the circle never ends,

A bookie never once pretends;

When he chalks up they all come back,

Hypnotised by his taut tic-tac.

 

Why’s the plate passed around the floor?

Inside info, that’s what it’s for!

You’re in profit, God knows the score,

So leave me your tips at the door!

 

© 2017 AGP

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