‘Twas the night before a barrel race, all through the barn,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a yarn.
The horses were nestled all snug in their stalls,
In hopes that tomorrow, they’d conquer the walls.
The riders were nestled, their minds in a trance,
Dreaming of perfect runs, their hearts in a dance.
With visions of barrels, they’d turn on a dime,
In the hopes that victory soon would be thine.
With saddles and bridles, they prepared for the race,
Their helmets secured in the right-fitting place.
Their boots were all polished, their chaps were so fine,
In the world of barrel racing, they’d surely shine.
When out in the arena, there arose such a clatter,
The announcer’s voice rang, “It’s time to go faster!”
Away to their horses, the riders they flew,
With the thrill of the race, their excitement anew.
The moon shone down on the barrels so bright,
As riders and steeds raced through the cold winter night.
They circled the barrels with speed and with grace,
In the hopes of a win, in this challenging race.
The crowd cheered them on with a deafening roar,
As they raced ’round the barrels and back to the door.
With seconds to spare, they crossed the finish line,
In this thrilling pursuit of the fastest of time.
So here’s to the barrel racers, so skillful and bold,
Whose hearts are as fierce as their horses are bold.
May your rides be smooth, your turns always true,
Merry barrel racing to all, and to all, yee-haw!
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