RACE TO DONCASTER
By Josie Whitehead
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.
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