When That Whiff of Romance is Secreted in the Mix

When That Whiff of Romance is Secreted in the Mix

1988: Wimbledon win the FA Cup

Had we but world enough, and time
your true reflection to have and to hold
to remember those dreams, those days of old
of those who called but fell behind

And your flirtations with the chosen few
who picked you up while passing through
plied you with the best champagne
the ones who scored, knew the game
and those they labelled 'no real threat'
that cast of thousands you've never met
the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker
the over-weight success
rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief
tactics : ad lib in excess

And those inter-locking stories
endlessly re-told
of brave hearts and die-hards
desperate to hold
your shapely physique
and play a part your story
to taste your pedigree
and to bask in your glory

Faces in spaces
that twist and contort
gentlemen and players
selling dreams they've bought
the flat cap, the tartan flask
faithful to the cause
the artisan, the journeyman
the face the crowd adores
mid-field orchestration
sweet music to the ears
an anaemic cup of rosie lea
to put hairs on your ears
against the wall, against the wind
from roots to branches
weathering the storm
while defending avalanches
from the cute, the cunning
the master plan
to when it really hits home
and when it hits the fan

As they dance the dance and walk the walk
invert the shirt and talk the talk
ride the ride, look the look
with pencils sharpened to re-write the book

But man still hands on misery to man
painstakingly unravelled, hard and unblinking
an upset is an upset
when all said and done

Still this is what it's all about
of hopes lost and found
take heart from the levellers
feel the common ground
those packed to the rafters
fighting the good fight
and those where you have to walk fifty yards
just to get a light
with painted bed-spread allegiances
backdropping reels and jigs
comedy Magnum muzzies
and dodgy seaside wigs
the effective collective
with nobody immune
and those who volunteer their lungs
in the name of a good tune
history and tradition
of those who've gone before
of big guns folding
like hinges on a door
hearts leap from chests
emotions differ and merge
on the edge
becomes on the verge
teeth-grinding moments
fuel the urgency to shine
your soul is caught in history
and frozen for all time

Opinions, observations
more opinions and views
we've heard it all down the years
on the chicken pate news
but no-one can deny
your awesome pulling power
may you pirouette on the senses
until May when you flower

So wherever they may wander
wherever they may roam
they'd stem the tide
to warm your side
and a chance to take you home