And This Is Why, Dad, You Are The Best Footballer In The World.
By kate emily
Tue, 12 Feb 2013
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3 comments
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My favourite game - when you'd kick
the football from our garden,
over the house and into the lane.
I'd watch you,
ready as a cheetah,
for your toes to connect with
the ball and send it flying-
that glorious moment!
That hoofing sound
as the sky scooped it up;
it was the moon, falling out of orbit,
or, racing in his chariot, that
greek god gone bonkers
I'd sprint up the garden,
Mum's flowers brushing
the summer of my six year
legs, sending me on
through the rickety gate,
the gravel path, skidding into
the lane to see
the football land;
that never forgotten
glee of the perfect
touchdown.
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Comments
Simple, but a nice little
Simple, but a nice little portrayal of one of those everyday but special moments. I'd say most of us have odd little memories like this that we treasure.
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And treasure them we should
And treasure them we should especially so when captured in a poem as good as this.
'The sky scooped it up' and then that followed by the next bit is superb.
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