You are
all
invited to
The Poetry Ball
(to throw)
The Poetry Ball.
From out of the kitchen
and into the hall
travelled the flight
of The Poetry Ball.
It bounced in the courtyard
‘gainst a wall that was tall,
came there no rest
for The Poetry Ball?
It travelled the world
promoting the word,
so hard it was hurled,
was The Poetry Ball.
Until, finally, it stopped,
The Poetry Ball was popped,
the husk of it’s being
had literally been stropped
by a razor-edged hedge
of barbwire upon sedge,
and there it lay dead,
with it’s feet by its head.
You are no longer invited,
“Don’t come, one and all!”
to the tragical tale
of The poetry Ball
Graeme Sandford 