Grey is your coat,
Smooth and sleek
Paying high on the tote.
We’re on the punt,
We’ve been down all night,
But race eight is here
There goes the red light!
Roaring out of the pink box
You’re straight in the hunt.
That bloody favourite
Has snuck in front.
But not for long,
For you’re closing in fast.
So don’t stop now
Nelly, keep racing past!
Mere seconds remaining,
There’s just the straight to run.
Please dearest Nelly,
We need this one!
Oh Nelly you’ve won it:
The hounds’ war of all wars.
You carried us to heaven
Like an angel with paws.
In our darkest hour,
You sent us fair into the black
So dearest Nelly,
You’re our queen of the track!
Jack Growden's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Dearest Nelly by Jack Growden )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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