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The FAI Cup

Peter Goulding

Thursday, August 21st, 2003

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Oh the FAI Cup is a flittery thing,
With a fickle and delicate power,
A butterfly, fragile and silken of wing,
Pirouetting from flower to flower.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 October was always the month it appeared,
But now it spreads wings in July,
And though to the warm, summer climate it’s geared,
It’s strange seeing it flitting by.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 We followed it faithfully southwards to Cork,
Fearful in case we should lose it,
But there were no petals on Dolan’s green stalk,
No subtle perfume to infuse it.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 And thus it capriciously headed north west,
To the wide open prairies of Sligo,
And we followed it blindly with hopes unexpressed,
But where did that sweet butterfly go?

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Though Sligo are hoping they still have a chance
Of luring it to the Atlantic,
Tis eastwards its leading its mesmeric dance,
Increasingly fervent and frantic.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 And here on a hill far above Tolka Park,
There stands an intense maroon rose,
Magnetic, hypnotic, it lights up the dark,
Exciting the butterfly’s nose.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Where will it land, this capricious young thing?
Where will it lay its sweet eggs?
Dormant they’ll lie till the first rays of spring,
Bring about two UEFA Cup legs.

© Peter Goulding 21st August 2003

Notes

Shels v Sligo replay tonight. The winners at home to Galway.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-fai-cup/