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By Josie Whitehead

Race to Doncaster

When you think of Yorkshire
    You may think of many places,
But when you think of Doncaster,
    You may well think of races.

It’s horse racing I’m thinking of,
     A sport which brings great pleasure,

But the oldest classic race of all?
     Of course, the famed Saint Leger.

But when you visit Doncaster
     Just make yourself at home:
Play golf, or try some angling
     Or you could go to the Dome.

It’s here that you can climb a wall,
     Or swim, play squash or skate,
And in a most delightful way
      You’ll shed off all that weight.

Transport’s played a vital role
     In this city’s claim to fame.
The stagecoach came upon the scene
     And things never were the same.

The stagecoach brought the horses here,
     Which later led to races,
But think of railways, engineering;
    It’s what the town embraces.

Before we leave old Doncaster,
    There’s somewhere we must go:
You’ll find some stalls of many kinds
    With such good things on show.

The traditional market has been crowned
     The best one of them all,
And the stallholders are rightly proud
    And truly walk quite tall.

I hope within this little poem,
    This town has won your heart,
And do drop into Doncaster
    Before you must depart.

Copyright on all my poems




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