Marc O'Brien Poet Rhyme

Going Fourth With the Football Thing

There was a ring at the dungeon door 
Canary raced across the floor 
Pulling a hammy while nursing his soars 
Appearing was a seagull that once was poor 
“My friend the Canary 
Spent the morning sailing over on the ferry 
Sipping my AM sherry 
Very relaxed not in a hurry 
But many thoughts I do carry 
You should not worry 
Since I got a goal 
Decided not to fold 
So I tell my dear Canary 
Things right now may seem scary 
If you go down to the other league 
You may be a champion I do decree
Honestly, I must get back to the beach 
Hope you learned from what I teach” 
Later in the day 
Royals wanted to play 
“Let’s chase the foxes around
How does that sound?” 
But after the hunt took a brake 
That both sides did take 
Protecting their own field 
Foxes knew the deal 
By putting one up on them 
Now he Royals really needed to defend 
When another one hit the board 
Royal’s weekend ride turned into a chore 
Asking for extra time 
Foxes replied, ‘not on my dime’ 
Sending one home not being declined 
A group nicknamed the Red Devils 
Needed comfort they were at a certain level 
Invitations went out from Old Stafford 
Heated pitch fork staff holding back the laughter 
Mr. Bourne took the message in stride 
Showed up and truly did try 
With one that went in 
Mr. Bourne’s mouth was smiling 
This did not stop the satanic crew 
Since they were not through 
Cherries were lured into a fight 
Victory the demons right
Frustrated and in trouble 
Mr. Bourne returned to his bubble 
Mouth now tied shut 
Red Devils saying, “so what”

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