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Football Poets’ Cup

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Finally we qualify.
The Football Poets’ Cup.
Excitement almost makes us cry.
Like all, their first time up.
Then, grouping draw upon us,
almost die from our held breath,
or Butler, Goulding, Thomas –
seems we’re in the Group of Death.
Still, don’t bet yet on our group’s horse
to leave with hardware, ribbons.
Raymond’s our collision course.
So, too, Maguire and Gibbons.

4

Notes

With thanks to all FP contributors from a new contributor an ocean away. No snubs intended. I now wake up grateful each morning that everyone qualifies for the FPC and there are only winners. TM

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/football-poets-cup/