Who’s Your Mother, Referee?

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Despite the fact that she was deaf,
She’d come and watch her son, the ref.
Those half-heard outbursts of derision
At every crass, inept decision,
She took as being songs of praise,
Behind the constant, buzzing haze.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Her dress was black as blackest night
From which the stars had taken flight.
Her hair was greyish-white and on it
Perched a white and lacy bonnet.
The fans around her nudged each other
And cruelly named her “Whistler’s Mother.”


Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/whos-your-mother-referee/