The thud of the ball on the goal-post;
The tramp of the boots on the grass;
The piercing screech of the whistle...
Hard luck, I had fumbled the pass.
The roar of the crowd and the cheering;
The swish of the ball through the air;
The gasps, and the goal-mouth wide open...
Alas, but I wasn't there.
I trapped the ball with the toe of my boot,
I dribbled through forwards to place
The ball in a perfect position to shoot...
Too bad, I tripped over my lace.
Kick-off once again, the ball came to me,
I hurtled right out of our half,
With brilliant manoeuvres I baffled their backs...
But was crippled by cramps in the calf.
The chances they came and I missed them,
There were jeers and my team nearly cried,
Then, at last, I was there, I scored ! We had won !!
But the referee ruled me off-side.
|My Dad kindly composed those brilliantly witty, alliterative lines for my English Homework. Was that cheating? It was published in the School Mag. Ha ha ha.||
More pieces by Namur King
Another kind of match