The Racehorse Trainer



It’s hard to smile when the horses don’t win

To hold in your heart that knowing grin,

The money goes out and nothing comes in

The winnings aren’t fat they look a bit thin.


The going is fast, but the horses are slow,

Or the freezing conditions are followed by snow.

Life is a circus, a merry-go-round

One moment up the next moment down.


But this is horseracing, and thereby your fate,

To dance to the music of luck being late,

The weather is bitter, the job is a bait

You can’t stop the challenge it will not abate.


But then there’s a wholly unheard of call

When the sun breaks through and you see it all,

The passion, the speed and the yearning to be

Trainers of talent,  makers of dreams.


When that winner comes galloping over the turf,

When the cheering of crowds, the insatiable mirth

Then they see you’re a stoic trainer of worth,

The bad days are gone, on success you will surf.


For that is the joy in the early morn,

With the sun and the dew in the cool of dawn,

There’s no job that is better for anyone born

Than blazing a trail on the emerald lawn.


Don’t count up the winners, but count up the days,

For life is a challenge in so many ways,

Of horses and victories are stories told,

It’s within your grasp that crock of gold.

Caroline Baldock©2017