Football Poets

The World Cup opening ceremony

And then it happened
The World Cup, yet another
Explosion of colour
A glorious sensation
Across the nation
Sheer elation
Joyous celebration
To meet the expectation
Mexico, flamboyance
So ecstatic and buoyant
Mexico of course
You wax lyrical
So typical of a culture
Not a sign of a vulture
More the doves of peace
In football’s four yearly
Lease, occupying our thoughts
Hopefully few noughts
No goal-less draws
Upon those forbidding doors
Just tailor made entertainment
Mexico, a ringing endorsement
Last night, the hosts in
Perfect green shirted accord
Jumped aboard on opening night
Banished the fears and met the light
South Africa free as a bird
And now clearly heard
Explored their heritage
And dug deep and then took
The leap but never got going
The river of passing
Just stopped flowing
The hosts in dazzling form
It was always the familiar norm
Since the Azteca shook with history
Never a mystery
Unbeaten since the beginning of time
A carnival of lemon and lime
Let’s drink in the atmosphere
Amid the soaring stratosphere
Early on the Mexicans
Flourish their sombreros
Amid thousands of boleros
Scoring bright and early
Never nervy
A shot drilled in firmly
And sternly, no trouble
Only rubble in South Africa’s defence
Mexico never sit on the fence
Their attacking movements had
Style and grace
Satin and lace
Fluent and confident
Impulse in the
Central American manner
Emblazoned on their banner
Where Aztec feathers were
Always together
Men and women in shell suits
But no hint of dubbin and boots
Music and dancing
Just kept on prancing
Released from the cage
Never expressing rage
Of commerce and finance
Not remotely askance
From the drama and melodrama
Of our fondest hopes
No more chains and ropes
Tying the Beautiful Game
Down, never ever drown
Let the World Cup begin
We’ll have a gin
To toast the globe
Away from the flashing strobe
Jimenez of Wolves
Swooping header
No Scottish heather
But then the 35 year old
Jimenez stoops to conquer
Mexican hearts do the conga
World Cup revels
Are up and running
Sunning themselves
With stunning abandon
Just up and never down
48 teams bulging at the seams
A plethora of arts and crafts
Football’s broadest canvases
Of purity and nobility
When the finest whistle goes
And New York blows its
Millions of whistles
Maybe thistles from Scotland
And Sassenach England
Now there’s a story
Please don’t worry
Tartan kilts never wilts
Three Lions on the Chest
Only the best
It’s the World Cup
Of USA, Mexico, Canada
Not C and A.
The Beautiful Game
Of global fame
Blissfully free of shame
Always

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