ZZ Top
¶ 1
Leave a comment on verse 1 0
The magician brings the ball under his spell;
Brazilians bamboozled by Zizu’s brilliance,
leaden-footed as Zidane ghosts past them,
past Portugal and into the final.
¶ 2
Leave a comment on verse 2 0
Whilst lesser mortals huff and puff,
he breezes, zephyr-like
into the biggest game of all,
sweat-soaked,but lean, streamlined.
¶ 3
Leave a comment on verse 3 0
Memories of ’98 abound:
two headers in the 3-0 rout,
the way he caressed and
fondled the ball, like a lover.
¶ 4
Leave a comment on verse 4 0
Now, eight years on, his swansong.
What a way to bow out!
Vowing to defeat the Azurri
with a shimmy, a feint and a swerve.
Comments
0 Comments on the whole Poem
Create an account to leave a comment on the whole Poem
0 Comments on verse 1
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 1
0 Comments on verse 2
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 2
0 Comments on verse 3
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 3
0 Comments on verse 4
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 4