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The World’s Greatest Team

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 “You don’t know many of our names as yet,
And we number far more than just eleven,
We play in Heaven and in folk myth memory,
Forever young, unbloodied and uninjured.
Saxons, Scots and Lancashire Fusiliers,
Kicking a ball to and fro in No Mans’ Land,
At Christmas 1914 and again in 1915.
We rest in peace, the World’s Greatest Team.”

Notes

Our contribution to Crispin’s competition.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-worlds-greatest-team/