MILTON UNITED'S GROUND; a new poem by The Mowdog...

Milton Heights

Fronds swayed in obeisance,

A chorus-line of whisperers,

Then,

As the wind bullied and a squall sullied,

Copse bowed and creaked its helpless penance…

Ropes rapped their intolerance,

A harsh slap and lashes,

Then,

As the gale ripped and a torrent whipped,

Nets billowed and stretched their hapless petulance…

Red Kite hovered its presence,

A pert glide of threat,

Then,

As the wind harried and the predator tarried,

Prey scrambled and scattered in helpless deference…

Football soared in reverence,

A martyr to elements,

Then,

As the gale hurried and the leather worried,

Milton triumphed and scorned such hapless acquiescence…   

Pete Ray 

December 1st 2015

‘The Heights’, Milton United’s ground on a very windy and squally day. Trees bowed to the power, goal-net ropes cracked against stanchions, a Red Kite lurked above and the ball was affected by the gale, which blew straight down the pitch, making passing difficult. Milton struggled to play with the wind at their backs but incongruously scored four goals into the face of the elements…