London 2012: The End of the Games

The final, fluttering flags are furled and packed away;
the anthems echo out for the final times today.
The tallies and the tables can be written in The Book,
while runners-up can ruminate on Time, and Chance, and Luck.

Four years in the making; a fortnight in the end.
Trials chose the athletes for each nation to send.
Friendly competition chose who would win the gold;
a first chance for the young, a last chance for the old.

And now the time is ticking, and quickly running out.
No more days of planning, and no more days of doubt.
The champions' names decided, and little left to say,
but to make the motions of this last Olympic day.

One final ceremony to end these London Games,
a festival of song; a final flicker of the flame,
before the Cauldron's petals are each taken home
to nations of the world where I may never roam.

We came and we contested, qualified and played;
old heroes were confirmed, new heroes were made.
In four years' time, in Rio, we all will make some more
through friendly competition; in peacetime, not in war.

London's venues now fall mute; silenced, the starter's gun.
And though some days were tense, while other days were fun,
there is just one conclusion - an over-simple one -
we won, Great Britain. We, Great Britain, won.