Football Poets

Premier League round up.

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 So North London
Reigns supreme
Rivalry intensified
The fires of antagonism
Leaping flames and pouring
Smoke gushing forth
From the Tottenham Hotspur
Stadium and the Emirates
Arsenal and Spurs level pegging
At the top of the Premier League
Smouldering animosities
Passions overwhelming
Locked in loathing
Nothing between them
A rare sight
But both leading the way
Spurs yesterday straightening
The trilbies and boaters
Of Luton’s Hatters
Who must have thought they’d
Turned a corner at Goodison
With a first win in the top flight
But even happy Harry Haslam
Would have been downcast
And disheartened
By Luton’s brave facade
Against Spurs stylish carriage
Sadly not enough on the day
For the team that the Stein brothers
And Lil Fuccillo once graced
With Bedfordshire graciousness
Not quite the way they
Would have wished to see
Premier League newcomers
Doffing their hat at a rakish tilt
Today of course Arsenal
Never the amiable neighbours
Finally shut the door in the face
Of Manchester City
Three precious points for the Gunners
1-0 to the Arsenal, a familiar refrain
Almost the National Anthem at Highbury
Land of Hope and Glorious Arsenal
Emirates immersed in title
Winning fantasies
Yesterday though in the land
Of Lancashire hot pots and
Lowry’s matchstick men
And once thriving industrial mills
Burnley in the best company
Of Vincent lost in the world
Of Chelsea’s threshing machine
Four of the best from
Mauricio’s men from the Bridge
Sterling in the finest currency
Chelsea up and running
Then Roy’s Palace find
Their butlers and servants
Standing guard
At the gates of
The Forest predators
Foraging for scraps
And discovering no goals
A rigid stalemate
Selhurst goal-less
A pointless exercise
But a pleasant day
For South London bathers
In October’s lovely
Saturday of warmth and willingness
Not for the lack of trying
Then Everton’s Toffees
Chew the fat at Goodison
And emerge from early season’s
Stressful travails
Cherry picking through
The Bournemouth fields
A bumper harvest of three
To soothe the savage breast
Easy but never that easy
For demanding Evertonians
Then back at the Cottage
The thatched grandeur
By the River Thames
Fulham, plain sailing
Against the steely glare
Of Sheffield and its
United’s now blunt Blades
This could be a season
Of cutting comments
At Brammall Lane
At this stage
History is racing away
For Paul Heckingbottom
If omens are needed for
Sharper wits and survival
Then it has to turn
For this must be uncomfortable
Watching for those
Who have seen it all before
You fear the worst
But the season is still young
Meanwhile Old Trafford
Shakes off more August
And September rust
Manchester United slow
And sluggish out of the blocks
And in danger of sinking into
The stinking cesspit of struggle
Yesterday United sting
Brentford’s bees
Venomous in the dying embers
While the Hammers
Meet the Geordie Toon
Honours even
A score draw most welcome
In claret and blue hearths
While the Seagulls of Brighton
Find Klopp’s Liverpool
In generous mood
With yet another share of the spoils
Autumn in blue and white stripes
Crunching of leaves
By seaside serenity
And finally in the Midlands derby
Wolves and Villa
Clash over the garden fence
They must stop meeting like this
Draw of course the outcome
We sensed from a mile away
The Premier League
Now rests its weary limbs
For international break time
Yet again

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