[Misc] World Poetry Day- 21st March

[Eeyore]

I'll start off with one I wrote in 2016 after turning up for a mid-week cricket match at Streat, a ground I had only visited once previously with the same outcome:


Let’s tell a tale of England fair,

of willow, cork and leather.

Of journeys to the countryside,

where old friends come together.



A day off work, a timely break,

release from mundane task.

The hallowed turf, the whitewashed crease,

we’re there- no need to ask.



The cars arrive, the pitch prepared,

the changing rooms all-chatting.

The toss to come, decision’s tough,

are we bowling ? are we batting ?



Yet warbler’s tune, so soulfully played,

doth suddenly fall still.

As angry cloud and sharpening breeze,

now shroud the nearby hill.



Once sky so bright, once hopes so high,

another splendid game,

No ball will bowl, we’re going home,

it’s pissing down with rain….

 

[hans kraay fan club]

My one and only 'published' work. (they put just the last two lines of it - completely destroying the context of what I sought to convey - on the wall of the brand new East Stand concourse, as part of the art display, when the Amex opened)

The Withdean Experience, how best to convey?
To sit in the rain, twenty four quid we'd pay.

The PA was awful, the catering poor
Row S in block U had a hole in the floor.

The away fans complained that they barely could see
Don't know they were born - least their ponchos were free.

Watched a real mix of players - had hopes for them all,
But for each Paul McShane there was one Shane McFaul.

A fortress to start with, it went horribly wrong
T'was a home back in Brighton, but for ten years too long.

We had our good times there, though more often poor
At least 'til that day that Gus walked through the door.

So as we move onwards, I beg of you please
Raise your glasses my friends, to the Theatre of Trees.