March 12, 2012

 

 

Oh desire that burns my soul

Then leaves me as I shed a tear

A second’s glance into the past

Making those times seem so near

 

Playing tricks with my emotions

Lest I should try to forget

The greatest love that ever came my way

Alas, short lived, but without regret

 

A pointer, a pinnacle, nothing ever came close

To equal that time long ago

When hearts were racing and passion was high

And eyes had that certain glow

 

Alive, alert, consumed with urge

Not even looking to feel that way

When life was crazy, exciting and hot

And still so vivid, even today.

 

 

 

March 11, 2012

 

 

Aren’t we all just products,

Of what has gone before?

Although we think we’ve left the past

We never quite shut the door !

 

 

The Director of Football

The top man and coach

The Chairman with money

Who the Gaffer must approach

The band of supporters

Loyal men and true

The match day officials

Who can make dreams come true

Or ruin them too, in the blow of a whistle

The linesman so blind he can

Make your hairs bristle

The waterlogged pitch

The game sadly abandoned

The Park frozen so hard

The players hardly can stand on

The ups and the downs

The banter and ranting

Make Saturday what it is

Win or lose fans are chanting

 

 

 

 

The timing wasn’t right,

But then – is it ever?

So many plans on hold

Until the twelfth of never.

 

Schemes and dreams all squashed,

Swept out to sea so fast

What they had got lined up

Like history, now is past

 

Tidal waves still flood the mind,

The horror, daily comes to visit.

The hopelessness of those poor souls,

To just have fun was their requisite

 

The ones who came by chance

Looked fate into it’s eye.

Whilst others booked their journey,

Well before the tide was high.

 

Disastrous though it was,

Gladly some lives were saved.

Such lucky ones indeed.

For whom destiny’s path was paved.

 

Alas, it’s thought provoking

And it proves the sea is cruel.

This greater force around us

Is such a powerful tool.

 

 

March 10, 2012

The pies and the pasties

The lukewarm tea

The foul-mouthed chanting

Unfit for him at my knee

The queue for the loo

Each man desperate to pee

The cheer from the crowd

The excitement, the glee

The disallowed goal

Scored all in vain

The deafening drumbeat

Of the insane

The missed handball

The Ref’s a ‘gobbin! ’

Sing fifty thousand

Men all sobbin

The desperation

the ‘off-side’ rule

The bloody idiot

The stupid fool

The player was king

A minute ago

Now he’s sent off

for a vicious blow

Then the debut kid

Gets a yellow card

For an eager tackle

Too late by a yard

 And at the end

Time’s added on

But by then

Half of them

Have gone

Some ecstatic

Some bereft

The winning goal

Was outright theft

They rant and rave

And say ‘no more’

But come next week

Into grounds they pour

With hopes renewed

And faith restored.

 

 

 

We don’t grow up – we just grow wiser,

and give ourselves a break

We just move on – we learn some sense

For everybody’s sake

 

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