Gareth Southgate

I remember nineteen ninety six
like it was yesterday – the penalty
the way that Gareth kicked the ball and missed
I bet he never thought that day that he
would ever be back in the game again
his name engraved in Lions’ hearts, their
lips aflame with songs of praise, and men
in waistcoat shops, and women swooning where
he might have been. You’ve got to love a man
who wears his pride so modestly, who’s cute
who wears a new suit stylishly, who can
(if dream we dare) bring home the Cup to boot
If on that fateful day he’d walked away
we wouldn’t be here, would we. Let us play.

© Gail Foster 11th July 2018

Choosing Choice

dreamland knickers

The Devizes Neighbourhood Plan referendum

at the Town Hall on Thursday 17th September


My alarm clock shouts at me with noisy voice

“Wake up!  It’s Thursday and you have a choice!”

Of what to have for breakfast, eggs or bran

And of voting or not voting on the Plan

I’m not that sure quite what it’s all about

Perhaps I’ll go online and check it out

The library know their stuff, they’re pretty fair

Could ask at the Town Hall, there’s people there

That funny poet woman says “Vote Yes”

Or otherwise the town will be a mess

Without a Plan we just won’t have a clue

Of what outside developers will do

But other folk are saying “No! Vote No!”

I’m so confused about which way to go

If I don’t vote I haven’t had a say

It’s only a few moments from my day

I’m going to go to town now and the Market

Could take the car but it’s a job to park it

Might take my bike or simply take a walk

And wander round and meet some friends and talk

I wonder what they think, I’ll ask their views

They might, like me, be wondering what to choose

Meat from the butchers, or some humble spam

Or whether to have a quick one in The Lamb

I’ve chosen breakfast eggs, I’m on a roll

I’m going to town, I’m going to simply stroll

I’m going to look at options and take note

I’m choosing choice and I am going to vote

If stuff goes wrong I’ve got till ten o’clock

The day is long, I’m on it (where’s that sock?)


by Gail