Football Poets

Football Coming Home, Hopefully

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 It surely will but maybe not
That same anthem ringing
In congested heads, rationalising
The whys, wherefores, mysteries
Of the universe.
Football could be coming home
But that’s a definite as opposed to
Could be. The web of possibilities
The probables that have spun around
In our head for 55 years when
We were barely conscious of life’s
Elegant tapestry, then it was there
At the summit of our hopes
The certainties misted over in
Our questioning minds,
But then suddenly it could just
Be ours, our heirloom for generations
To follow the dowry left behind by the
Aristocrats who were convinced
We could survey our manor
Our domain, chests puffed out
Football was our beef, lamb and
Sunday carvery, the apotheosis of
Saturday afternoons, the height of it all when rattles
Sent us into raptures of lyricism
Then terraces burst into life
Choirs of song, idolatry
The players who were our
Portraits, oils and watercolours
But England was ours to contemplate
Tonight from every village, pub and dining room
Where those learned discussions of Ramsey, Revie
Greenwood, Robson, Taylor were like mirrors and
Reflections on our past, the scene of what might
Have been rather than was
Oh for those moments
Of nail biting intensity
Then blown out of the
Water because of possible
Pre-occupations elsewhere
But we’ll be there, in body and soul,
Veins and arteries in perfect harmony,
Thinking of Sundays when we stopped
Stillness across the land, silence residing
In our heart, on the antimacassar from
Our sofas, from way back when
1966 was the centre of the universe
No need for black and white images
That once lit up theatricality, Coca Cola
London, Mary Quant, a culinary feast
Of swinging London, anything seemed
Within our clutches.
But 2020 or 2021, devout and sincere
Re- write the melancholy script
Gareth Southgate, let us please
Seize the day, carpe diem
Iconic, unique, it’s been far too
Long. wandering along with a
Defiant whistle, defeatist and
Regretful but not this time
We have to win
It’s in the stars, planets
And constellations
Another ambrosial victory
As Germany found to their cost
Let’s drop our coins into the
Trevi fountains of today
Stand proudly above
The thunderous roar
Of the Colosseum when
Romans challenged again
And again.
Football maybe coming home
Let’s hope and then it came to
Pass and pass and pass,
Triumphantly for this evening
When England called.

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