THE BARD OF RUGBY

 

Shakespeare gave us his sonnets,

Rhythmic compositions of noble words;

Structures of character and characteristic,

Analogies of both the best and the worst.

 

Shall we compare the flowing ink,

With orchestrated movement, self evident?

Fluid waves in human form,

Motivated by the battle's hailing morn.

 

What manner of captain will lead?

Who will provide and motivate and feed?

A pack, hungry for possession, for control,

Of the prize, that possession the resulting goal.

 

There is only one "Bard" for the English.

Not so for those who are only Welsh.

The might of words have carried far,

In chapels, chambers and upon the field of sport.

 

Rugby! Like singing, a part of the whole;

Taken to and given full support, a daily rule.

The air in its breath carries vital components,

Strengthens the Celt who will face all opponents.

 

There are Warriors and Heroes, who have led;

Their comrades on those fields coloured red,

By the shirts, the symbols of tradition,

Of the pride and strength of the fiery dragon nation.

 

There are poets and storytellers who are honoured,

At eisteddfod, at Llangollen and at others,

But to these you must add those who are crowned,

On the fields where the three feathers are worn by the proud!

 

1996 © Will George

 


Will George Poet


will-george-poet.co.uk