More bloody football

Okay, this is the last match of the football season, so no more from me on the subject after today. We duly beat Estonia 5-1 on aggregate and achieved our first qualification for a major finals for a decade. The return leg in Dublin was never in doubt after winning 4-0 away, so, instead of biting nails and clenching buttocks, Emmet showed me how to make deadly paper aeroplanes with the green bits of paper left on every seat and this amused us no end.

It seemed an apt theme for a Balassi Strophe. A wha', Gay? A Hungarian rhyme form, that goes like this -

x. x. x. x. x. a
x. x. x. x. x. a
x. x. x. x. x. x. b
x. x. x. x. x. c
x. x. x. x. x. c
x. x. x. x. x. x. b
x. x. x. x. x. d
x. x. x. x. x. d
x. x. x. x. x. x. b

at least, according to Kerry on Toads on her Sunday mini-challenge.

Paper planes

The crowd’s collective roar
made the paper planes soar,
some crashing into the stand,
others reaching the pitch
and landing smoothly, which
elicited a big hand.
How they circled and soared,
our long-held dreams on board
before coming in to land!

Defying all the odds,
we sit up with the gods
and sing loud that old refrain
of Olé, Olé, Olés,
pre-empting summer days
in Poland or the Ukraine.
The Irish spirit sings,
borne on the fragile wings
of each tiny paper plane.