I played for Clapham Harps
On Clapham Common
Tail end of my illustrious career
Saturday afternoons
Pulsating pitches
Games galore
Shouting goals to cheer
A young lad called me granddad
I remember
As we emerged from changing rooms
To play
I marked his card
And gave a demonstration
Of Bolton’s finest football there that day
On summer evenings walking
On the Common
Beside the Windmill pub
That sells Young’s beer
Some Irish lads were practising
Their skill sets
For GAA encounters
Very near
One lad kicked the ball
Into the heavens
So high I thought it never will
Come down
And jumped himself to meet
The falling object
A mighty skill
For Croke Park and a crown
I wondered where this Irish lad
Had hailed from
What village or what town claim
As his own
And here he was in London
Earning money
Would he stay here or
One day make it home?
Brian Fahy
11 May 2021
Erris Poetry 