Denis Bruce | + Follow Poet |
Rhyme | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

Even Our Heroes Grow Old.....

(Let it be recorded far and wide
That the sun shone brilliantly with pride
And bright azure were the skies
The day he entered Paradise.)

Slight of build,small of frame,
His ginger head weel kent throughout the game.
A buzz of excitement ran round the ground
When  his name the PA did sound.
His presence promised electric thrills 
As he paraded his rich range of skills.
He made his name out on the wing
Where he could make the ball dance ,and almost sing,
A dip of the shoulder,ball tied to his foot,
Skipping nimbly over a cruel ,scything boot.
Whenever he was forced into a fall,
Back he bounced like a rubber ball,
Ready to launch another mazy attack,
Body prepared for more pain on the rack.
Finally time made him hang up his boots,
He retired to Uddingston ,the place of his roots

There were dark days,they say,of drink addiction.
Thanks to family and friends,he survived this affliction
And went on to entertain guests at his old alma mater
With jokes and songs and his bright ,breezy patter.

Glorious were his years upon that hallowed stage
But the  finest hours arrived  with his advancing age.
Was it a stumble or losing his grip
That alerted his doc to his physical dip?
Those limbs,once fluid with beauty and grace,
Were now imprisoned as though with a steel carapace.
When he was diagnosed as having motor neurone,
That's when we saw the true strength of Jimmy Johnstone.
More cheerful than ever, he offered all comfort and solace
And made the world a much happier place.

We shall never see his like again
But,thank God,the memories will remain
As we recall Wee Jinky  in his football guise,
Now Lord of the Wings in Paradise.

Copyright © Denis Bruce | Year Posted 2006

Please Login to post a comment