Poem for the day

Twas kick-off in the stadium
An early start that dawn
And many eyes had gathered round
To see the first cap born

The sun was bright electric
The scrum shoved to and fro
The number nine wore green and white
The ball not long to show

The loose-head prop was grunting
The air was sweated thick
The ref peered close the shunting
Lest ball be dead or quick

A shove across the gain-line
From twixt the legs appeared
Feed out! Feed out! and draw the man!
The back line sore afeared
From in the stands, in green and white
A lone supporter cheered



What? REJ it up a bit? Ok...encore un fois...from le top...

Bore da. Now many people see rugby as metaphor for life. - that's what is says here - Emrys and his bloody notes. Incidentally, Emrys can't be with us today in person, because he isn't one. He is in fact an egg-whisk in a bowl of thesaurus. But don't worry about that, I handle the logistics. Here's one he spilt earlier:-


Twas kick-off in the stadium
An early start that dawn
And many eyes had gathered round
To see the first cap born

The sun was bright electric
The scrum shoved to and fro
The number nine wore green and white
The ball not long to show

The loose-head prop was grunting
The air was sweated thick
The ref peered close the shunting
Lest ball be dead or quick

A shove across the gain-line
From twixt the legs appeared
Feed out! Feed out! and draw the man!
The back line sore afeared
From in the stands, in green and white
A lone supporter cheered


REJ:- Diolch yn fawr, Emrys! -

Emrys Egg-whisk:- *whir!* -

The game played hard, the passions high
Elation, then depression
How urgent felt the battle cry
For first-quarter possession.

REJ:- Yes it's looking a bit forced now -

E.EW:- *whir!* -

Twas half-time in the stadium
The pace had surely slowed
Yet faster ran the game-clock
As the anxious faces showed

REJ:- No, you really should have stopped -

E.EW:- *whir!* -

The scarves and hats were fading
The singing seemed less strong
The laws again a-changing
Christ! the whistle can't be long!
The number eight's a stranger,
And the words don't fit the song

REJ:- I think that's a yellow card. Yes, definitely a yellow -

E.EW:- *whir!* -

Twas midnight in the stadium
The echoes have all gone
The final pass beneath the grass
And no-one knows who won

REJ:- Red card! Subtle as Tom Jones' underpants! You won't make much selling the notes now will you? Early bath! etc.