‘Eads An’ V’s

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 D’you remember ‘eads an’ V’s an’ footy on the Puddy?
Sunny, hazy strawberry-pop fuelled frolics,
Or cloggin up soggy bog, waterlogged an’ muddy
An’ foggy Tuesday evenings, stone cold with frozzen bollix.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Flickin’ up a flyaway, whackin’ it a wally,
Tryin’ a score a b*****d of a Van Basten-esque volley.
Teein’ up a thunderbolt, skyin’ it a mile off,
Toward the iron roundabout what nearly ripped me thigh off.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Three an’ in, sixaside, get an ‘eader on it!
Flung a boot out in the shoot out, ‘it a Peugeot bonnet.
Each car, the underside of bar, nothin’ quite went unblemished,
Surroundings pounded by the ball with every mishit finish.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 But nights draw in, ball’s get burst, games get late.
Our carefree kickabouts converted to stalemates.
We grind out goallessness, employ ultradefense, tense, nervy
As our swervy wayward punts drift wastefully away
Over the sideline.
Our game of childhood, deep into stoppage time.



I like to write poetry which reminds me off childhood and being acquiescent towards everything around you. This is about a game we used to play and how we no longer have the time or inclination to do so, and the sense of nostalgia that comes with it.

Editors Note :
2 words amended
otherwise, totally agree with the sentiment and nostalgia trip

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/eads-an-vs/