The Castle Grand National (just sponsored by Burtons - with what, Jumbo?).
Written before kickoff time by Burton Albion, that word being added a min ago!
“Twas a Castle summer evening, one of Jumbo Arbor Supreme,
All dark and drear, the going hard and extreme
When Mamyalynne’s Ballabriggs, the punters’ dream
At The Castle’s Midnight Club, ever so near
Did the Tailcock National Super Nova champion first appear.
The start will be clean away, off the floor
WestEnd Rocker, ridden by supersuezy24
Becauseicouldntsee, a blind nag from petal54
Both may fall at Fence Number Four.
Ravenmiss on Shakalakaboomboom
On his Own, SunnyDave his groom
Sunnyhillyboy, a percypineapple equine gal
“You can’t mess around in Killyglen,” said Polar’s Weird Al.
Lie-in-King’s Synchronised feline haggard
Is all the lcg’s Rare Bob rage.
So, Seadogg’s Seabass a fishy laggard,
And Nungate, her Llama nag, forever a Midnight Haze.
Down thru gness’s Tatenen valley they will go,
Jogger’s riding a Viking Blond, a nag of some illusion.
On to Postdogg’s Postmaster, by a nose?
chasing Lady A’s Organisedconfusion
For owdhamer’s Neptune Equester.
“Nay, not here on our Burtons’ Quiscover Fontaine night,
Try Lady J’s Tharawaat, a pastie Cornish tester ”
Said TTFN’s Mon Mome, no doubt a contestor
Swing Bill by AlexanderEd, Alba’s Always Right
Venator’s According to Pete, he’s probably too tight,
AYG’s Hello Bud, it’s definitely all over.
Four horses too fed on our Castle Clover
Life’s a stokie’s heavily backed Chicago Grey
Tis but an annadomino State of Play.”
Yours for the Mrs O’s HP Treacle askin’.”
“Get along, Daisy Non’s Cappa Bleu, you’re not baskin’.
‘
“P’raps AOG’s on the right wing In Compliance,”
The troll’s Alfa Beat so cries,
He grabs his Junior coat-tail, promptly to die,
An attempted act of true AnswerBank defiance.
Before he ended butt-high in the Stable rack
Deep in wye-dyed’s Giles Cross.
The Moat Jump; Croc lies await in for any loss
“Ed’s Neptune Collonges? perhaps – a winning snack!”
Zac’s Master – he’s riding Calgary Bay, “The Winners Circle?”
Asked sly Flumpy on her Deep Purple.
“Nay, nay, “ thus answered maid-up’s Black Apalachi.
“Tis near Slinky Kate’s Vic Venturi.
We’ll all meet at the Pasta’s Planet of Sounds Gate
With the bells a’tinkling, always chiming
The Club’s doors are open; it’s never too late
We’ll run a furlong or two for our timing.
Off the runners hurried, one and all
To “The Castle’s 50’s” stalls,
Their colours beautifully flying, ever so rational
For the Castle’s Tailcock Grand National
May the riffle winner take all.