Pride



With hearts in mouths we cheer, we cheer;
our golden girl, at last, is here.
Beneath the Cauldron's fiery blaze
to fight for us, across two days.

Her seven tasks inspired by old;
these, it is, will choose the gold,
the silver, and the bronze as well;
the winner's name, just time can tell.

And this is her time, this her year
as crowds of people stand and cheer
both in the stadium, and outside,
in pubs and lounges nationwide.

A cheer so loud, it's surely heard
the breadth of Britain on August 3rd
as the Games' most cherished face
joins the line-up for her race.

A leaping blur before our eyes
- at times, it seems, she really flies -
a dozen seconds, a global best,
and once again, our girl can rest.

But not for long - for she must leap;
once more our golden girl digs deep
to leave the ground and jump six feet
- but this time, our girl is beat.

Fifth, but first still, overall;
the trial next, to throw a ball
and once again our girl's unstuck;
down in ninth, and down on luck.

And worse to come, for now we find
the Brit has fallen just behind
and needs to overcome her foe;
three tasks down, with four to go.

Rounding off the day's events,
a flat-out run before the tense
and trembling Olympic crowd;
nervous yes, but no less loud.

Another race, and so we're back
to line up on the running track;
200 metres, and when they stop
our girl is tied, her name joint top.

But overall, she stands alone
- the races run, the throwing thrown.
The high jump bar is packed away
and she's in first, after the first day.

Now Britain's angel of the north
returns once more, on August 4th.
Four events of seven done;
a jump, a throw, another run.

And though she clears 20 feet,
the long jump isn't quite so sweet
as yesterday was on the track;
a Russian, this time, holds her back.

And once the javelins are thrown
the chance, we see, is still not blown;
our girl rises to the test
and though ranked tenth, she throws her best

to lead into the final round;
one final time, the rubber ground
becomes a battlefield again;
all eyes are on our girl, and then

a bang begins this two-lap race
and cameras focus on her face;
and none can doubt her golden thirst
as the Brit sets off in first

and as the starting lap plays out
dare we dream, or is there doubt?
A minute for this frenzied lap;
but for our girl, a closing gap

and then, to everyone's dismay,
the vision falters, fades away;
did she run the lap too fast?
For others catch her; she is passed.

But our girl will not be stripped
of this title; and the script
of her home Olympic story
is to be a tale of glory.

Again she digs - and somewhere deep
she finds the pace she needs to creep
to level terms, and then ahead.
It's time to put this race to bed.

Her seventh task is almost done;
we hold our breath and watch her run.
We stand, we shout: "Come on!" then "Yes!"
And then we weep, with pride for Jess.

2 comments:

Paula Maher said...

really good! captured the whole spirit very well.

bobble said...

Thanks :) I figured I'd best write a few things before all of the emotion dies down - no sign of that happening just yet though...!

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