Weltmeisterschaft (Poem Is In English!) Poem by Stephen Wylie

The game is tight
the feeling tense;
the air is warm,
the defence dense.
The Germans push
high up the pitch;
the Argies break,
their style so rich
in fluid running.

The tackles crunch,
hot feelings flare;
the players bunch
with angry stare.
An elbow flies,
a boot goes in;
two men are lucky
they're still in
this ardent match.

In front of goal,
the nerves don't hold:
none bold enough
to strike the net,
and seize the glory.
There's extra time;
sub Götze's on,
the German 'wonder boy'.
His shot flashes home,
for he's not coy -
but ready to be champion.