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February 2021

To see a World in a Grain of Sand To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour by William Blake (1757 – 1827) . . . Tuesday February 2nd 2021 This morning, I was […]

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January 2021

Remember Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land, When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you […]

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December 2020

Thanks Gran Loved the pink rose Scented bubble bath and Perfume, shame you forgot I’m your Grandson . by Paul Cookson . . Wednesday 2nd December 2020 Mid-Season Friendly Lakenheath 1 Josh James 25, Linton Granta 1 A Palmer 53, Referee:- Ade Copsey Attendance:- 54 Admission:- £2.00. Programme:- NONE Two teams, each with an iconic […]

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November 2020

A second Lockdown from 9th November until 2nd December was ordered by the Tory Government, so precious few opportunities to see football matches in November, but compensated for by several walks of varying lengths, despite some typically seasonal weather! . . Why I Love football Why do you love football? What do you see in it? Why […]

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May 2020

. Remember when we used to changeIn the back of a Triumph HeraldA lovely little motor carOwned by our goalie Gerald.In the boot he kept the corner flagsThe team kit and his bootsOur Sunday morning ritualFootball, and It’s grass roots.We could never use the dressing roomsThey were always out of orderWindows smashed, Showers wreckedThanks to […]

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April 2020

THEY’RE WEARING CRICKET PADS UP IN HEAVEN John J O’Connor 18th April 2020 “Why are you putting on cricket pads?”says God to old Saint Pete.“Cos Norman Hunter’s coming upand he’s dangerous with his feet. We’ll put him on Cloud number Sixwhere he can hang his England Caps on pegsthe cloud is already christened as‘ Norman […]

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Pleasant Pastures in Perivale and Mad Marauding Muntjacs

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: The opening lines of John Keats’ “Ode to a Nightingale”   Don’t the above words just fill you with foreboding? I’d recently taken […]

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