FA Cup Final day
¶ 1
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The FA Cup, the architecture of our day
Complete and fulfilled
Football’s finest column and pillar
A structure of handsome beams
Timber thatched at times, then
The culmination of those dreams
Of cosy pubs where the fug of pipe smoke
Drifted from non league obscurity
When the third round beckoned
And men of steel, iron, longed to
Be free and ready for giant killing themes
When Goliath was a mere boy
Men of tender limb, grace on their mind
Gallantry at their disposal, ready to topple
The impregnable oak that stood upright
Against the boggy marshes and mud
Stained warriors who moved muscle
And mountain to find Wembley in its sights
But then they came in coach and bus in their
Vocal multitudes, masses of fans with rosettes
Banners of humour and gentle whimsicality
Flying across the decades when time seemed to
Stand still, held together with the unity of who
They are identifiable as the begonia next to me.
From Peterborough to Scunthorpe,
To Rotherham and Grimsby
Where modest ambitions
Take up residence at the feet of the
Young and old, a feeling of romance
When the fires and flames of hope
Wandered down our lanes forgotten
By the few who knew victory would be
Ours, their scarves ablaze, passions on the
Highest platform and summit
Of Abide with Me, conducting our triumph
On open top buses, through towns
And cities where we used to see
Where families awaited the FA Cup again.
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