My Wembley Trophy Football

You wake up Christmas morning
Rushing down the stairs
There amongst your pressies
Is the answer to your prayers

The one-foot square cube
Can contain only one thing,
It’s a Wembley Trophy Football
With its wonderful ring

Whenever it was kicked
It thrilled us younger boys!
From deep inside the ball
Came that brilliant noise

It’s textured orange plastic
Adorned with deep black lines
like panels on a leather ball.
It was the master of designs

Like a real football
It was the Regulation weight
But Regulation players are men
And I was only eight

In my new George Best boots
Winding up for a massive kick
A shudder shook me to the core
Just like punting at a brick

It was unaffected by the wind
And made that brilliant sound
Once they knew you had THAT ball
Kids came from miles around

But don’t sit on the ball
Or it would go all out of shape
And fly wobbling through the air
Just like jelly on a plate

Could be used for great pranks
Like rubbing it in dog poo
Then lobbing it up for your mate
To head it back to you.

No football had the same appeal
Playing your twenty a side game
So I think that ensures its place
In the Football Hall of Fame

© Poet Shot