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By Thomas G. Barker
Conference Even Coordinator
Greetings Fellow Bloggies/Blogettes! We have made it to our second "Fuzzy Feeling Friday!" YEAH!!!!! Today, I would like to dedicate this Pot-Pori Poetry to the Game three Hero: Claude Giroux.
He Shoots... He Scores!
With the Crowd on their feet he take the pass
He struggles down the ice, but does so with class
He wobbles, he weaves, as his skates clench the ice
Shedding blood, sweat and tears he has paid his fair price
He slips, he falls, but he gets straight back up
With the vision of him and the Great Stanley Cup
He continues to skate with the puck on his stick
His fundamentals are shaky, he knows no big trick
The defence men part ways so he would no get caught
With the lane now wide open, he sets up for the shot
The puck is hit with maximum strength
As the puck slowly trickles for what seems like great length.
The Buzzer sounds and he leaps with great joy
Just a shot on net was enough for this boy!
He will never forget how he felt that day
When his coach gave him a shift-- when he was able to play!
He hung up his skates never netting a goal
But was the happiest kid -- for being given a role!
The Sherwood Lament
You cut me down and strip me bare
My limbs chopped off without a care
Through buzzing teeth, I am coaxed and shoved
Cold and Jaded, I don't feel loved
Wrapped in fibreglass and touched up with paint
A Converted Being -- From Sinner to Saint
My future uncertain, where will I go?
To the arms of a Child? The hands of a Pro?
Left to weather the wear and tear
Behind the Bench I am left to stare
Whatever the case I must stand tall
For I am a Hockey Stick after all
Until the next blog,
Cheer Loud, Cheer Long, Cheer Often!
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