my poems page.

match of the day.

twas in the year of '85                                        said olive. ''lads this will not do.                                six wounded and five stretchered off
one fateful morn in may...                                  we must obtain a sphere.                                          how many more would go?
a fearsome battle did ensue-                           in fact, i've got the very thing-                                     still an hour left, fans cried
on staff v. pupils day.                                          one of these hedgehogs here!                                 the players cried oh no!              


the staff, they all had hearts of oak,                ''and now let's wallop the hedgehog hard.
they showed no sign of dread.                        fast may the battle flow!''
the pupils had one chap called smiff-           she struck the ''ball'' with all her might,
the oak, it formed his head!                             and nearly broke her toe!


the staff's commander told his troops,         some talk of alexander
''strive hard, men, do your best!''                    and some of hercules,
we'll fire the ball into their net,                        but my good friend, the referee                       
made out of fatty's vest!                                    was far braver than any of these.


and so the battle did commence.                 he blew his whistle more than once
it was a free-for-all,                                          he took down many a name,
so fierce they didn't realise                            until the players sent him off
there wasn't any ball!                                       for trying to spoil the game!