apologies for all those overseas who do not know what i'm talking about in this poem, about today's Australian Football League grand final
"There are two levers for moving men- interest and fear"- Napoleon Bonaparte
Today is the day,
Last chance for the year,
Last opportunity to get comeuppance
And it's raining.
A bit overcast when i hopped
in my car and zoomed to work this morning,
But it was quarter to seven,
so i did not expect to greet the sun
And now thunder is playing on
a roof of corrugated tin too high
for a cat to be perched on
Drummers intermittently beating.
The main event is elsewhere,
Over plains treeless
and deserts Great and Sandy
to the south-east corner
But still, even if it's spectacular
weather for the spectacle in play today,
the culmination of a long hard season,
It should not rain today.
On this day, when in backyards everywhere
Cartons will be torn apart, spliced, shared
Liquid gold filtering to stomachs
Filled with pies, the usual fare
Rowdiness escalating to a hum
As the barbecue is fired up,
Sausages blackening as flames roar
with auburn, searing delight.
Stampeding inside for the start,
Pre-game song, commentary
'Expert tips' from those who've past it,
Still trying to stay in the loop
Of sport we hang ourselves by,
The common glue that sticks to us,
Our love of the native game
Many have been weaned upon
So let us rejoice this fateful day,
As together in clans we celebrate,
Race from work to the gathering
And cheer, til throats are hoarse
Yell and scream and jeer
For the valiant boys on the field
Taking the hearts of the nation
For passion, glory and honour
Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 567 times
Written on 2006-09-30 at 11:00
Tags Competition Sport
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Grand Final
"There are two levers for moving men- interest and fear"- Napoleon Bonaparte
Today is the day,
Last chance for the year,
Last opportunity to get comeuppance
And it's raining.
A bit overcast when i hopped
in my car and zoomed to work this morning,
But it was quarter to seven,
so i did not expect to greet the sun
And now thunder is playing on
a roof of corrugated tin too high
for a cat to be perched on
Drummers intermittently beating.
The main event is elsewhere,
Over plains treeless
and deserts Great and Sandy
to the south-east corner
But still, even if it's spectacular
weather for the spectacle in play today,
the culmination of a long hard season,
It should not rain today.
On this day, when in backyards everywhere
Cartons will be torn apart, spliced, shared
Liquid gold filtering to stomachs
Filled with pies, the usual fare
Rowdiness escalating to a hum
As the barbecue is fired up,
Sausages blackening as flames roar
with auburn, searing delight.
Stampeding inside for the start,
Pre-game song, commentary
'Expert tips' from those who've past it,
Still trying to stay in the loop
Of sport we hang ourselves by,
The common glue that sticks to us,
Our love of the native game
Many have been weaned upon
So let us rejoice this fateful day,
As together in clans we celebrate,
Race from work to the gathering
And cheer, til throats are hoarse
Yell and scream and jeer
For the valiant boys on the field
Taking the hearts of the nation
For passion, glory and honour
Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 567 times
Written on 2006-09-30 at 11:00
Tags Competition Sport
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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