Poetry

Chuck

Chuck In the quiet lane where the old oak leans, Chuck ambles slow, his well‑worn boots a creak, He tosses a stone into the gurgling stream, Watching ripples chase the sunrise’s gleam. His

Sutton United

Sutton United, amber hearts that beat, On Gander Green Lane where hopes convene, In sky‑blue shirts they chase each feat, Through mud‑splashed rain and summer’s sheen. From non‑league grit to FA Cup

At the Alphabetti Spaghetti World Championship Final

At the Alphabetti Spaghetti World Championship Final In a hall where steam curls like curling script, Chefs line up, ladles poised, their hearts a‑flame, Each strand a letter, each swirl a

Leyton Orient

Brisbane Road on a Saturday grey, Where the Lea's slow sigh meets the terrace fray. Old brick stands watch as the kick-off nears, The O's take the field through the passing years.

Chelsea

Chelsea’s blue unfurls beneath the London sky, A river of supporters chanting in the stands, Stamford Bridge awash with hope and pride, Where every tackle writes a brave new chant. The kit,

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