In July 2007, we welcomed the following new contributors to this site :
From Darlington Family Learning, we welcome :
A blast from the past – a welcome return to
Phil Brennan , who last posted back in January 2006.
Click on the names above to see that person’s poem(s), or browse some selected first efforts below :
Ron Davies. Southampton F.C. 1966-73.
He could hang in the air
like a bird of prey,
and outjump anyone on a Saturday.
Sydenham or Paine crossed,
then big Ron would soar,
a header in the net
then came the crowds roar.
Bigger clubs wanted him
he stayed at the Dell
A legend he became,
gave defenders hell
The best nine in Europe,
his peers they all said.
For many a long year,
Southampton he led.
Now the bone hard pitches,
and the muddy heap
Have taken their toll,
it”s so hard to sleep.
With hip joints and knees,
he now feels the pain.
But Saints fans who saw him,
will not see his like again.
Fond memories never fade,
when others have gone.
We will never forget,
a Saint called big Ron.
© Jim Dolbear. 2006.
haikued off at chelsea.
Silence at the bridge
Calm before the storm.
Mime games,or is it mind games?
© Jim Dolbear. 27.07.2007.
How long will Jose keep a diplomatic silence?
I want to be Robin Friday
It was a cold Friday night at the ‘Vic’
Pools hoping to give Cardiff a bit of stick
But one man stood in their way
His silky skills made the oppostion click.
Robin Friday was his name
No one else could do the same
A true legend and sheer class
He knew how to play the game.
Cardiff fans adored Man Friday
And Poolies applauded him too
I went home that night
Wanting to be Robin Friday too.
© Alistair Rae / Kirsty 24
One night in May
Out of the darkness came passion and glory
Passion in red; glory in white.
Glory once; glory twice; glory thrice.
Glory thrice but thrice no more.
Passion waning but glory fading,
For glory does not last forever.
Passion once with leadership
“Still time for the impossible to happen maybe…”
Passion twice with a final farewell
“Miracles are possible…”
Passion thrice with skill
“And mission impossible is accomplished…”
And passion, with one final dive
Saves the day.
The Reds are Champions of Europe once again.
© Bryn Roberts
I wrote this poem after the final of 2005 in istanbul, one of the most memorable nights of my life.
Lethal Ledley King,
Sneaky Steed Malbranque,
Hilarious Hossam Gholy,
Persisting Paul Robinson,
Aspiring Aaron Lenon,
Dramatic, daring Dimitar Berbatov,
Cautious Callum Davenport.
Righteous Robbie Keane,
Joyful Jermaine Jenas,
And lastly tiny Teemu Tainio!
© Ezra Jefferson Cope aged 9
i want to write a poem about the sainted game
its based on one cool guy and crispin is his name
he gives me inspiration coz he can feel my pain
and if he didnt cope with me I would go insane
amongst the madness in this world
there’s one thing we can say
that football gives us common ground
there seems no other way
we can talk about our club and the 4-3-3
and we voice our point of view
in true di-ver-sity!
cispin brings us all together
from all points of the earth
with music, words and jollity
he gave this website birth
so love this site and this game
which enthralls us all
and give a thought to crispin
who keeps us on the ball
this is leading to my point
’bout what i have to say
that crispin keeps it going
out of love not pay!
© rik manning
not much of a poet but you know it !! x for jenny
We are Manchester United
We’ve got Ronaldo, down the wing!
When he gets the ball the fans start to sing!
We’ve got Hargreaves, in midfield!
Hargreaves can also be a defensive shield!
We’ve got Rooney, to score the goals!
We’ve got Old Trafford, the pitch with no holes!
We’ve got Giggsy, down the left side!
When Nani gets the ball, defenders start to hide!
We are Man U!
And this is what we do…
We get the ball and pass it around!
Give it to Ronaldo and hear the cheering sound!
He gives it to Nani, who dribbles the ball!
Rooney, Rooney, Rooney the fans start to call!
So Nani passes to Rooney, and he scores!
We are Man U!
And winning is what we do!
© Lee Davies
I support Manchester United… So I just decided to write the poem!
John’s Chelsea Poem
Can score a goal from halfway mark.
He always passes to a different player.
Eating bad he will not score.
Love to have the ball on his foot.
Shout yes when they score.
Eats the air when they run.
Angry when they miss.
© John Wilson