Monday, October 19, 2009

The bard awoken by a beach ball

Ode to a Beach Ball

I used to see you as the epitome of ridicule
good for nothing
extractor of valuable air from my overworked lungs
uncertain flight path
and always getting lost at sea
I did not know you were biding your time
for your afternoon in the sun
when you sprang to life
on the Roker turf
You were coloured red
And may now lie deflated in the corner of notoriety
But you will live long in the hearts
Of all those who enjoy the clean blue air