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In no particular order.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 So here we go in a breathless gallop
A race through the FA Cup third round
Results, shocks, giant killers
All in one huge documentary of
Purple prose, but surely not from
These ink stained keyboards
Not yours truly,
Just a humble scribe
First The Cherries drink
From too many glasses of
Mature claret
Burnley sip from the finest
Of vineyards
Bournemouth left high and dry
On the promenades of defeat
Burnley now searching for
Another 1962 when Spurs
Had Double diamonds
For hearty tea times
Then seasiders ripple
And ruffle the peacock
Blackpool into the fourth round
Forest lost in a bewildered trance
Send for a search party
Then the endearing Non Leaguers
Boreham Wood find tall and commanding
Firs and pine trees
Woodland to treasure
This year held by the team
Who once extolled the virtues
Of milk
Accrington Stanley exactly
Bees of Brentford
Stung Liverpool but then
Are tamed by West Ham
Hammers pounding their Irons
And forging victory
Chesterfield all spires and
Plush sofas go to the wire
With the Baggies of West Brom
Six goals it could have been more
Coventry sent to Coventry
By the Hollywood glamour
Of film icon Ryan Reynolds
Wrexham in another movie
Block buster grossing millions
At the lucrative box office
Welsh wizards
Then the Eagles are clipped
By the Saints
Not quite logical
But Palace and Southampton
Find another FA Cup platform
This time the Saints
Are elevated and exalted
By higher themes
Palace wrecked
And raided by South Coast
Intruders
But we still love Buck
Palace
Fleetwood fishy but not
Suspicious,
Harbouring dreams of Cup glory
Drop the anchor
QPR sadly jettisoned
Concentrate on promotion
Once and all, focus on
The importance of the day
In the Garden of Kent
Gillingham, once an orange
Blossom in the springtide
Now bottom of the League
Next to the plankton
Narrowly beaten by the
Foxes of Leicester sniffing
Another FA Cup Final fragrance
Surely not
Grimsby, fishing for
The prize catch but not dinner
Haddock and trout
Yesterday Burton are ill suited
To the occasion, going for a Burton
So the saying goes so Grimsby
Devour their evening meal with relish
Then Fulham return to the Cottage
With happy tales of helpless Hull
Premier League odyssey now no more
Than a distant dot on the horizon
But hail the memories to savour
On Suffolk, Ipswich view Sir Bobby’s
Pomp with admiring glances
Yesterday Portman Road alight
With optimistic days
Rotherham beaten and battered
By the present day Tractor Boys
Young breeds and harvests
Liverpool, almost starved of
Recent form, haunted and unsure
Of their bearings as Wolves
Hunt in packs again
Ferocious, staring eyes
2-2, a four goal thriller
And Molineux for another
Re-enactment of Cup
Cut and thrust
Another thriller at Anfield
It was always thus
The Hatters of Luton
Selecting the trilbies
And panamas of Cup
Millinery
Held by Wigan
The last recent shock waves
Of Cup Final history
When Manchester City were
Premier League finished articles
And a year after their first
Trophy
Boro trounced by yet more
Seaside trippers Brighton
On the goal rout trail
Knocking candy floss from
Salivating Teeside mouths
With a vengeance
At the New Den they find
Millwall in the dock
Sentenced to a defeat
By the sharpest Blades
Of Sheffield United
Preston once English football’s
Invincibles
Recapture the spirit of the FA Cup’s
Essence. Harold Wilson’s proud Huddersfield
Beaten out of sight by the team
Whose plumber once repaired the pipes
Of so many,
There will be only one Tom Finney
Deepdale’s finest. Preston though
In the fourth round of the Cup
Berkshire royally acclaimed
By Reading, Hornets looking to buzz
Again but yesterday Reading royals
Triumphant again, at the invitation
Of His Majesty the King
Sheffield Wednesday who missed out
On two Cups of cheer against Arsenal
In 1993, overcome Geordie colours
Newcastle still in a no man’s land
In Cup folklore, 1955
Some unimaginable wasteland
Shrewsbury in the middle of the country
Sitting snugly in a nook and cranny
No Cup aspirations just simple dreamers
Sunderland, edge this one
Once victims of gigantic killing
When Yeovil poured Somerset scrumpy
In 1948 fields of wonder
The FA Cup hey
A winter fairy tale narrative
Play on

16

Notes

This is a round up of the FA Cup third round.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/in-no-particular-order/