Short Saratoga Poems

There was an old man from Saratoga
Who always wore an old Roman toga
Spice of parties they’d shout
Showing bony knees he’d flout
Till he froze to death in North Dakota....

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So here I am in Saratoga,
Quite a lovely place,
But visitors must do their part
And watch the horses race.

The weather was cooperative;
The seats were in the shade.
The thoroughbreds looked just the way
That racers are portrayed.

Such fun it was to place a bet
And root with all my might.
Though winning was the icing, 
I enjoyed each single bite.

I love the town of Saratoga - 
Hope that I'll come back;
But if I do then once again,
You'll find me at the track....

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