Les Roberts 2013

On the day the torch came to town

we turned out to cheer, in the afternoon sun,

as Samsung and Coca-Cola wagon-rolled by.

Our moment to shine,

waving plastic Union Flags and

smartphones raised in fumbled salute

to the guardians of the flame

heading back across the border.

 

Town of two halves, pulled from the marsh,

the undisciplined Dee, three centuries have

quietly flowed by, now the clamour

of circus parade has us in a gaggle

by the roadside. When it comes

the torch underwhelms: propane cone

out-flared by the sun in a

hands-free wheelchair relay.

 

Money shot moment to shine.

Fluffer of the flame, a camera truck

piques the nation's desire as the convoy

sweeps by and our moment passes

to others down the road,

who crane and jostle as we fold

up our chairs and amble back home

to catch it all again in surround sound HD.

 

Now racked on a shelf, that Zeus-dappled day

has its best china moments to shine,

for that was the day the torch came to town

and a boy who laps it all

blew out candles on a cake:

eight mini flames that were borne

through streets and lanes we had cupped

in our hands as if medals of gold.

 

 

 

September 2013

TORCH SONG