Sir Kenny Dalglish

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 From behind the sterile numbness of a desk
Littered with unfinished essays about God knows what
I would recreate in my mind your agile turns your pinpoint passes
The perfect arc of each lob, each chip, each first touch
And your colours would burst into life and puncture
The drab black and white collage of everyday Mondays
My old red shirt and scarf bonded me to the faith and Anfield
The Mecca the pilgrimage the Holy Ground
For what we are about to receive we are truly thankful
Christ himself would rummage amongst the fishes and loaves
The water and wine, the discarded walking sticks
For his shirt with the number 7 on the back and then head off to
The Walton Breck Road where He would stand with His mates on
The Spion Kop.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 (c) tobyjones 2nd january 2004

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/sir-kenny-dalglish/