The Beautiful Game . . .

I occasionally make references to 'the beautiful game' as I do like to watch the odd bit of footie now and again.

Time for an 'ode' I think:

Myth's river - where his mother dipped him,

fished him, a slippery golden boy flowed on,

his name on its lips.

Without him, it was prophesied,

they would not take Troy.

Women hid him,

concealed him in girls' sarongs;

days of sweetmeats, spices, silver songs...

But when Odysseus came,

with an athlete's build,

a sword and a shield,

he followed him to the battlefield,

the crowd's roar,

And it was sport, not war,

his charmed foot on the ball...

But then his heel, his heel, his heel...

I did like the quote by the author of the poem, Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy, when interviewed on Radio 4, 'I'm a lot more likely to watch football than he is to read poetry!'