A Tribute to the Greatest Show on Dirt
Speak not of Trojan War on ancient ground,
For adversaries stride with modern grace.
Here, over hallowed ground, they will retrace
Hoof prints of the ghosts who once were
crowned.
Let pageantry and pomp consume the air
As multitudes embark on spired dreams.
Memories
spawn reverence, so it seems
Two minutes alter lives beyond compare.
Bright
hats and roses red in color shine,
While Stephen Foster’s hymn elicits tears.
Angelic beasts parade along, in time
Anticipation gently disappears.
Eighty thundering hooves, euphoric sound
Is testament our newborn king is found.
