CURTAINS - My First Attempt At Dethroning Pablo Neruda :-)

. Here's something I wrote a few weeks ago...

.

A month, the world watched this game

So absurdly simple in name

Just a nine inch ball, to tame

Creating magic all the same

Heroes from yonder, they all came

Coveting glory and enduring fame

The group contests, none remembers

Too many teams merely made up the numbers

Flashed their brilliance, those capable Africans

Gave their hearts out, those intrepid Asians

But flashes never won matches

And onward marched the regular batches

Each game became too close to call

But then, someone always has to fall

Now the script began to turn awry

The favourites were made to look sorry

As Zidane started connecting his passes

Bookies were ruing over their losses

When Rooney shoved and Beckham cried

England had very well died

They displayed none of their valiance

Not once justifying their bank balance

As for the WAGs

'Twas time to pack their bags

While the Latino samba lacked it's beat

The host came third, no mean feat

And the Portugese stood up to fight

All crashing out when the going got tight

Finally, the French clashed with the Italians

Each dazzled us with their brilliance

Deservedly lifted the trophy, did Cannavaro

The Azzuris rarely left a gap, however narrow

For Les Bleus, the tidings looked rosy

Before things turned a little messy

Some untypable muttered by Matterazzi

Made ZiZou go a wee bit crazy

That made the referee get busy

And Champs d' Elysees went all hushy

It indeed was a great shame

But the great man has only himself to blame

Forgive himself, he would never

For he could've been the greatest ever!

.

. An appreciative word or two would mean the world to me.. A derisive critique would mean even more..