Christmas wrapping
Reveals
Star Wars toys,
To small boy’s joy.
R2D2 warps time.
That was me too
Thirty five years ago.
Category: Odysseus
Midweek fixture
Mild and misty
Floodlights blaze
Across green baize
Buzz of anticipation
Feisty crowd
Chanting and waving
Whistle blows
Mid-table foes
Huff and puff
Goalmouth scrambles
Fans up, fans down
Sitting and standing
Oohs and Ahhs
Ebbs and flows
Away goals
Set us jumping
Then a rapid comeback
Rouses the locals
Even stevens
Until the last ten minutes
Become a thriller
An 89th minute goal
Is the killer
Which lifts the roof
For us, the visitors
A happy ending.
Heavy burdens were carried lightly (see below) and a cracking mid-table dust-up took our minds off everything else. There is a magic about a night match, there’s something about the floodlights and cold night air. A cracker.
Chemicals
Walls
Pumps
Engines
Replicators
Blobs
Bumps
Fins
Legs
Running
Chasing
Killing
Eating
Tools
Thinking
Self
Awareness
Symbols
Words
Memories
Paf
Ashes
Dust
Chemicals
Six months waiting
With bated breath
New iPhones are out
But nowhere has them ‘in’
My mail order racehorse
Lost out to the missus’s high street nag
She got her’s first
Increasing my thirst
Until
One Monday night
The doorbell rings
A son sprinting
Courier grinning
Special delivery
For Dad
iPhone 4
S for special
Mmmm
Apple products
Perfectly wrapped
And me
At last
Perfectly rapt.
Steve Jobs RIP
School Christmas carols
Parents wedged in
Younger siblings
Making a din
Silence falls
Like a blanket of snow
Then many small voices
Sing tunes we all know
All upstanding
The grow-ups join in
All in good voice
The joy of a hymn
Our spirits all lifted
By seasonal cheer
The annual sing song
Gets better each year.
The annual Christmas carol service, at my daughter’s new school, is a step up from the childish plays of recent years.
Opened with an expert trumpet solo, studded with eloquent readings and conducted with vim and vigour throughout, this was a classy – and very traditional – Christmas performance.
She, smartly dressed in red shirt and blue skirt, never spotted us – lost in the crowd. But I could see her, through gaps in many heads, singing her little heart out. It lifted mine as I stood to sing too. You can’t beat a proper Christmas hymn.
Achilles & Aristotle 