Football Poets

Lionesses find Dutch courage and Wales out.

So it is that the Lionesses
Summon Dutch courage
Against the nation
That gave us tulips, canals
And bicycles
Don’t forget the Gouda cheese
It finally came right
When the Netherlands were there
For the taking
We knew the girls could do it
And that they did
It had to happen
After faltering against
The French Les Bleus
Too much nous and
Streetwise intelligence
For English ladies
Of upright posture
Breeding and refinement
But, suddenly, the girls
Find their time, place and
Moments in the warm shadow
Of Swiss mountains
4-0 to Sarina’s
Women of class and substance
Let the praise shower over
England in the baking heat
Of our Mediterranean summer
And how we welcomed its arrival
Hoping it’ll hang around
And then stay for the duration
Even though we know
That football was essentially
The autumn and winter playground
And summer was designed for the
Yellow and red ball
Of tennis and cricket revelry
But let’s hear a raucous roar
For the Lionesses of 2025
Total Dutch football
No longer the sum of their parts
But a disparate rabble of
Orange mayhem
Laura James opened up
The treasure chest
Then found a second wind
Another for her CV
Before Georgia Stanway
Notched up a hat-trick of goals
It almost seems too good to be true
But surely authenticity
Is what we always get with
England, dear Blighty
Never failing in her duty
Oh we must relate the
Icing on the cake
Four for England
On the night
But this can’t be golf
It’s Ella Toone
With a surname like that
She has to be from either
Newcastle or a simple melody
Well done our Ella
Brilliance trips off the tongue
Even your first name
Reminds us of
That legendary jazz singer
Who lit up the Second World War
What a night for the Lionesses
Netherlands never there
And finally our Welsh girls
Bow out against the French
Sad but brave
You did your country proud

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Lionesses beaten by France in Euro 2025

So the Lionesses
Released from captivity
Promptly wounded by the
French ladies of haute cuisine
After the seven goal avalanche
Of goals against the Jamaican
Reggae girls of soul and rhythm
The England girls lose theirs
Not so much the femme fatales
From the Arrondissement
Nor the boulevards of gay Paris
Now the joie de vivre of delicate
And dainty feet of French Mademoiselle
Devour time and space
Quick witted movements
Lead to two winning goals
Outlandish as the Moulin Rouge
At times but frequently too clever
And dangerous for Jess Carter,
Alex Carter, Lauren James,
Lauren Hemp, Georgia Stanaway,
Alex Greenwood, Leah Williamson
Once rampant Lionesses
Against Jamaica and Portugal
Now simply easy prey
For too sophisticated Proustian
Women who gave wondrous literary
Chapters from fleet of feet
Feathery touches on the ball
All the hypnotic one touch
Pitter and patter that
Used to belong to the French
Masterclasses of Platini,
Six and Giresse, Petit and Henry
In male territory
Are now incorporated into
The female repertoire of finesse
And suddenly England are ambushed
In the Swiss Alps
Now the mountainous terrain
Which is where the English ladies
Now find themselves
At the bottom of the Alps
Staring thoughtfully
With no crampons
And only spirit and resilience
To turn to hopefully
As the jaws of adversity
And defeat shut firmly
On the English Lionesses
Last night there was the boulanger
But only half baked
No crusty croissants
For our girls in white, red and blue
Now Macron’s marauders
Possess far too much savoir faire
Our doughty girls
Briefly down and out
We must hope
A girl named Marie Antionette Katato
Had far too much cake
It did seem the French revolution
Had overcome the English bulldog spirit
Katato opened the scoring
For France
After England thought they had
Broken through the Bastille
Vive La France
That indefinable je ne sais quoi
Sarina Wiegman’s ladies
Are shaken up by the art deco
French, who knew just a bit
Too much
Finally a woman by the name
Of Baltimore
Surely not hot foot
From the American land of the free
Clinches the deal for
France, just too good on the night
Before Keira Walsh
Salvages a consolation goal
But by now the damage
Had been done.

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England Ladies thrash Portugal

Oh girls you were magnificent
Steely femininity
Coursing through every
Muscle and limb
Never given the appreciation
You deserve
The England Lionesses
Roaring through savanna lands
And the dense jungles
Of football’s exotic swamps
Last night your neighbour
Hilariously admitted that the girls
Were rolling up their sleeves
We were stunned and shocked
Because we hadn’t done our homework
And extensive research
Assuming that the alpha male
The epitome of masculinity
Would be stitching their cats cradle
Of endless conveyor belts of passes
Attacking from all angles
But Harry Citizen Kane was still
Revelling in Bundesliga
Appointments with glory
At Bayern Munich
While the ladies, the girls
Were on royal variety duty
And by half time
The game was over
In fact after five minutes
Portuguese girls
Were staggering around
The Wembley arch
Crumpling to the ground
Crumbling under England’s
Merciless bombardment
An artillery of five goals
In a ludicrously one sided half
Oh what a Whitehall farce
This must have been like
All of their birthdays on
The same day
This was an act of
Barbaric cruelty
For the ladies of Portugal
What happened there?
But you were still scratching
Your heads in gobsmacked wonderment
It was a Friday night
And the men were still in the pub
After their weekly toils
Before joining the feasts
And intoxication of the weekend revelry
England with six of the best
Last night, the girls were expressing
Bewildering close ball control
Passing the ball and forming a latticework
Of intricate, first time passing
A divine revelation
The heavens were singing
Contralto
Sweet Caroline
St George’s flags
A red, white and blue woodland
Of girls with painted faces
Smiling exultantly to the
Poised and ready TV cameras
Girls, you really did show
Your male counterparts
How to do it
If only Thomas Tuchel’s
Worldly male warriors
Of England
Could even touch
The astonishing feats
Of last night
It could be an American
New York blockbuster
Broadway show for
England, next year
American apple pie
World Cup winning ways
And not before time
6O years in the waiting
Joining in with the Mexican
Mariachis, last night’s
Waves and then the Jules Rimet
Trophy, you never know
Mexico, it could be our time
Canada here we come
Turning over new maple leaves
But last night we were
In the graceful presence of
The Spice Girls
Peaking at precisely the right moment
Before hitting the Swiss Alps
In Euros fantasy lands
Ladies,
The male machismo
Defers to your knowledge
And judgment
We’ve been here before, girls
You’ll make winning trophies
Look so utterly effortless
Men, it’s a vast amount of
Respect to the ladies in
The house
Six goals at Wembley
We were spoilt something rotten
Go out there girls
You were sisters doing it
For themselves
And thoroughly deserve it
Time for boarding the plane
To Switzerland
And leaving your men folk
To reflect on yet more
Grand stages
Remembering their lines
Finally,
Next year, it has to be
Our turn to be World Champions
Hopefully.

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A Thought

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The Lionesses proved they are the Best.
Much better than the men are they by far.
Now here’s a thought that’s come into my head:
Could we not send these Lasses to Qatar?

4/8/22
Denys E. W. Jones

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