Ballinamallard United

In the quiet town of Ballinamallard, where hedges sigh,
United’s colours ripple beneath a Fermanagh sky.
The pitch, a emerald stage, awaits the whistle’s call,
Boots thudding steady, hearts answering one and all.

From the terraces, the faithful chant in steady rhyme,
Their voices weaving hope through every passing time.
A tackle, a sprint, a glance toward the goal,
The net shivers—joy erupts, a collective soul.

At half‑time, tea steams in chipped mugs, warm and brown,
While legends of the past are whispered all around.
When the final whistle blows, win or draw or loss,
The town stands united—pride beyond the gloss.

Ballinamallard United: more than just a name,
A thread of community, a steady, burning flame.