Thanks to Stan , we all dream of the home run in the world serous. Or scoring a penalty in the word cup (football ) final. This poem is my comment on Stan's enjoyable poem. Stan never ceases inspirer me. Stan , I trust that you except this poem of mine
Scores 4 4 , extra time being plaid ,
I'd been sent on as a sub ,
With two minuets on the stadium clock ,
Left to play ,
PENALTY! PENALTY!
The shout goo's up ,
No one breaths in the stadium ,
No one volunteered ,
''I'll take it , no sweat'' , chirps up me ,
The Brazilian golly gives me the evil eye,
I stares him out , rolls me sleeve's up ,
Show me tattooed three lions to him ,
The reef blows his whistle ,
I take a run up , me eyes never leavening those
Of the keeper , I brings me foot back ,
As like an arrow in the draw of an old English long bow ,
Then give the ball such a powerful kick , as like the arrow ,
Released ,
See the ball heading fore the right hand corner ,
Keeper , dives , as if it were pause on d v d ,
His fingers so close , would he keep the ball out ,
Was I going to score? Hart were in me mouth ,
Then , their were a noise like the bell of hell it self ,
The sodden alarm!
The Dyslexic Poet Ken D Williams
Poetry by ken d williams
Read 486 times
Written on 2009-10-26 at 21:49
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DID I SCORE?!
World cup final , England play Brazil ,Scores 4 4 , extra time being plaid ,
I'd been sent on as a sub ,
With two minuets on the stadium clock ,
Left to play ,
PENALTY! PENALTY!
The shout goo's up ,
No one breaths in the stadium ,
No one volunteered ,
''I'll take it , no sweat'' , chirps up me ,
The Brazilian golly gives me the evil eye,
I stares him out , rolls me sleeve's up ,
Show me tattooed three lions to him ,
The reef blows his whistle ,
I take a run up , me eyes never leavening those
Of the keeper , I brings me foot back ,
As like an arrow in the draw of an old English long bow ,
Then give the ball such a powerful kick , as like the arrow ,
Released ,
See the ball heading fore the right hand corner ,
Keeper , dives , as if it were pause on d v d ,
His fingers so close , would he keep the ball out ,
Was I going to score? Hart were in me mouth ,
Then , their were a noise like the bell of hell it self ,
The sodden alarm!
The Dyslexic Poet Ken D Williams
Poetry by ken d williams
Read 486 times
Written on 2009-10-26 at 21:49
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