The Fighter

Although this was not actually written about the great man himself, it was more a generalisation about the process. But,  with the sad passing of another legend Muhammad Ali I thought that I would post this today.  RIP to the greatest boxer a true fighter and the reminder to “Float Like a Butterfly, Sting like a Bee”

Think for a moment of the fighter.
Promoted his future will be much brighter,
He’s training for his very next bout,
But during this he doesn’t shout.
Can’t guess from the shape he’s in,
But this guy is determined to win.
Not sure he’s Bantam or Welter weight,
Can’t tell exactly from his gait.
Nutrition and fitness are his loves,
Dressed in shorts and his gloves.

The date arrives he behaves with bravado,
Showing the world he‘s no desperado.
His belief in himself as he will rise,
Willing his opponent to meet his demise.
Thinking of all of the money he’ll make,
If he’s prepared and what risks to take.
What he’ll do is calculated,
His form and result to be debated.
The time has come to grace the stage.
Experience will show with his age.
The effort he’ll give with all his might,
The victor he’ll be this very night.
With Herculean effort he’ll fight to the last
A case filled with trophies of the past.

 

 

A Wildflower Garden

044I thought that I’d plant a wildflower garden,
To discourage the edges around us to harden.
Through the fields cutting a swathe.
For bugs and Bees, there to enslave.
It would have lupins’, the odd cornflower,
To brighten the way and harness it’s power.
Colours bright will form an array,
From your journey your eyes might stray.
Wander there and scatter around,
Seedlings to grow all over the ground.
Opening up before your eyes,
Turn the corner to your surprise.
Along over there by the side of the road,
There to embrace and the wildlife to goad.
A small chance of some encouragement,
From Nature to do her best it’s meant.
To entice from your face a smile to see,
As blossom and pollen fly to be free.
Floating along, up on a cloud,
A cloak over countryside to shroud.
Near pond and stream and hedgerow,
Earthworms and Beetles busy below.
Waiting through winter, for the cold to pass,
Busy creating the green and the grass.
Buds and leaves begin to sprout,
Sharing their beauty once they are out.