"Seven bums and fourteen legs,
a brazen ecstasy which begs
the question some of us are asking -
is Peter Goulding multi-tasking?"

Martin Parker, Editor, Lighten Up Online

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

World Cup 2010 - Day 20


Here I’m standing right outside your window.
Yes, I know you’d thought I’d gone to ground.
You’ve read about the World Cup in the Indo?
Well, that’s the reason I’ve not been around.

Matches on at lunchtime, as you know, dear,
Afternoon games whet your appetite,
Evening games the best part of the show, dear
And don’t forget the highlights late at night.

Today, at last, the World Cup takes a rest, dear,
Not a drop of football to be found.
My absence up to now will be redressed, dear,
Until the quarter finals come around.

No, my dear, this isn’t a loud-hailer
You’re eying from your balcony above.
This is what they call a vuvuzela
And I’ve come to serenade your love.

Listen while I play a lilting air, dear,
Hear this composition wot I wrote.
Tonight its going to get its premiere, dear,
Shame it only plays a single note.

Your father’s out here cursing like a sailor,
Says he’s going to give me some advice.
That’s not the place to shove a vuvuzela,
Frankly, dear, that wasn’t very nice.


  1. Lovely.
    I suspect it is the very place to shove a vuvuzela.

  2. Dear Peter: Tonight the night. Love the poem; such heady drama richly unfolds! And all the vuvuzelas played at once. Which may be too much considering the drowning sound makes on down more draft just to keep up! I feel vuvuzelas here; and in the soccer'd ionosphere! The earth is spinning (yes, it does do that...) Pick on fav? Go for It!