Thursday, August 8, 2024

In the stable, secrets of success reside,
Microbes in the gut, where fortunes coincide.
A young foal's droppings hold fate's clue,
Predicting future triumphs, as if on cue.

In the hay of destiny, microbes softly speak,
Foretelling victories for the eager and meek.
Each pile of poo a crystal ball so clear,
Mapping out a path for the racing year.

Through manes of time, this study gallops fast,
Unveiling the future, revealing the past.
In every dung heap, a tale unfurled,
Of a champion in waiting, in this horsey world.

So heed well the whispers of the horse's behind,
For in those droppings, fortunes you'll find.
A journey foretold, in each fecal mound,
Racehorse destiny in poo profound.