Poetry Day 6
The Conquest
Shouts echoing across the grass
Softly churned to mud beneath metal shod feet,
Flags flutter, caught in a cruel wind,
Whipping the onlookers into a frenzy of noise,
Congratulations and curses fly,
Colours clash, faces hit the earth,
Blood is let, bruises bloom,
Limbs twist, breath kicked skywards.
The jousting ground?
The rugby pitch.
Shouts echoing across the grass
Softly churned to mud beneath metal shod feet,
Flags flutter, caught in a cruel wind,
Whipping the onlookers into a frenzy of noise,
Congratulations and curses fly,
Colours clash, faces hit the earth,
Blood is let, bruises bloom,
Limbs twist, breath kicked skywards.
The jousting ground?
The rugby pitch.
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