Poems by Alex Byers
Old Firm Day
Football “supporters” waiting on their bus,
Laugh, dance and sing,
The party’s in full swing.
Their polly bags are filled with
Some “yobs” are too drunk,
To keep a tally.
Kick off’s at two,
Plenty time to down a few,
An impious delinquent kicks a
Discarded take-away tray,
He’s already “tanked up” for
Old firm day.
Sunday 6.00 a.m.
A flock of starlings peck at the soil,
Below my garden grass,
Twenty or so, feed and fight,
In a mass.
Passing traffic and humans,
Disturb their feast,
Startled they fly off, to another garden,
To feast in peace,
On Yir Bike
Thousands wait behind the starting line,
Not only are they the pride of the city,
But also of our nation!
The Freshnlo-Pedal for Scotland cycling event,
From Glasgow Green,
To Edinburgh’s Murrayfield Stadium,
With forty-seven miles in between.
I watch in admiration, from my,
Many, being sponsored for charity,
Their legs going like the “clappers”
Down the Lochend Road,
Some, happily waving to me,
In my Easterhouse abode.
Pure pedal power, sweat and pain,
Struggling uphill to the ridge,
Not far now to a feeding station,
At Drumpellier Park, Coatbridge.