I went down to the racetrack coz I'd had a vivid dream:

I saw myself right near the winning post,

three lovelies sitting with me, eating strawberries and cream,

with champagne - and some caviar on toast.

I wore a light grey morning suit, and silky old-school tie,

a top hat at an angle like a Lord,

my watch and diamond stick-pin were the finest you could buy,

the women hung on every single word.

I told them how I'd picked the winner of the annual Cup,

it made a rather witty anecdote,

a waiter fetched a fine cigar, I smiled and picked it up,

then slowly lit it with a ten-pound note.

One lovely lady held my ticket - used it as a fan,

the breeze sent heady perfume over me,

my eyes grew dim and as I woke I couldn't understand -

was that a number two or number three?

So there I was next morning cashing every cent I owned,

I sold my house and car that very day,

the bank was rather kind, it was a princely sum they loaned,

as soon as my horse won, I would repay!

So now the big decision - number two or number three?

I needed help, and aid was provident,

across the crowded betting ring, a perfume came to me,

'twas from my dream, that lovely, heady scent!

I quickly turned, and there she was, the ticket in her hand,

the woman from my dream stood slim and tall,

a ticket - number three - I hurried to the bookies' stand,

fifteen to one, and so I bet it all.

I'm telling you this story coz you really ought to know

the reason why I'm begging on the street,

you call me irresponsible, but my small tale of woe

is something that nobody should repeat.

If ever you should dream and get an omen from the Gods,

jump on the horse of fate and ride it in,

don't worry over perfume, or champagne, cigars or odds,

just pick the bloody racehorse that will win!

More of my FUNNY POEMS HERE

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