The Olympic Torch

Raindrops beading

On over-worked hair

Crowds of tired people

Everywhere

Out of bed early

Dazed, bleary eyed

To stand on the hill

Child at my side

Street lined with families

Kids fractious and bored

Waiting for a glimpse

Of the man with the torch

Cars carrying potentates

Flouting the rules

Who drive through the street

Self-aggrandising fools

Women with fags

Blow smoke in my face

Make my breathing much harder

As I search for a space

The child and I stand

At an optimum spot

Then look right and left

Pleased where we stopped

Five minutes to go

Call the helpful police

The crown swarm the road

Stand back if you please

Union jacks

One pound per flag

Screams the hawker in blue jeans

As he strides through the crowd

Ignored by the locals

Considered a blight

I smile as he hurries

Away, out of sight

Umbrellas poke wetly

And don’t give an inch

I squeeze the child forward

He’ll see, at a pinch

Plastic kid’s drums

And whistles so shrill

Serenade our stout bearer

As he considers the hill

Preceded by Lorries

Promoting their wares

The spirit of Olympia

Measured by shares

Grim smiles from children

Bravely waving their flag

Know not why they’re here

Dragged out by dad

History son

Dad proudly proclaims

Taking the boys hand

Whilst they wait in the rain.

 9/7/12