Football Poets

Sir Elton John and Watford

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 And so ends another long and
Meandering Premier League season
When the final shrieks and screams
And raucous cheers and beers
Have toasted the garlands
Of trophies galore
One man bids farewell
To music’s festival
Of fiestas and siestas
The big stadiums,
Big gigs, the global
Acclamation and adulation
Life’s full and rich tapestry
The vices and vitality
Following him down
Yellow Brick Roads
Sir Elton John
Hertfordshire’s finest
Takes the last curtain call
At Glastonbury
The voice of reason,
Commonsense,
The vastness of his imagination
All conquering song lyrics
That spanned the profundity
Of innumerable verses
That touched our souls
Delicately and powerfully
Through the gales and gusts
The warmth and heat
Of simple rain then
The birthdays of our times
Anniversaries and wedding
First dances
Reg Dwight
Who guided us through
Tumultuous times
A gilded past
And then his beloved Watford
Were always there
From the bottom of the old
Fourth Division
When Ross Jenkins and Luther Blissett
Shot the Hornets to the stratosphere
While Graham Taylor launched
His long ball campaign
To the rarefied heights
Of the top flight
Sir Elton
The chairman of the board
But not the 1960s hipsters
This Sunday evening Sir Elton
Will undoubtedly think back
To those yellow rose emblazoned
Days
When John Barnes a force of nature
Terrorised the downtrodden on
The wing and then Barnes almost
Discovered heavenly hymns at
The old Wembley
Where Everton took the sting
Out of the Hornets venom
In FA Cup Final defeat of
1984 at the hands
Of those Toffees of Everton
But we then looked up at the
Wembley royal box
And noticed the sobbing
Lachrymose vales of tears
Flooding those eloquent red
Eyes, weeping at those
Sad songs
Rocket Man
No longer the illustrious
Astronaut recognising
FA Cup glory
Candle flickering in the
Wind, hope now ebbing away
Fading into yesterday
Vicarage Road now
The solemn congregation
In Sunday pews
All united by the common
Bonds of defeat
They shall never be moved
Vicar, what a wonderful service
Oh to be a fly on the wall
And a penny for Sir Elton’s thoughts
Last hours at the centre of
The stage, piano finely tuned
That immensity of talent
Glamorous glasses gazing
Through the prism of genius
Clothes stunningly outrageous
By his own admission
Lyricist par excellence
But it was always
Watford Football club
Through thick and thin
Agony and adversity
At the heart of
Our familiar footballing
Distractions
When your song
Was our song
There’s only one
Sir Elton John

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