Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
The Rugby Player
Posted on 23rd Apr 2022
The rugby player A bleeding nose, a broken foot, a dislocated thumb, nothing really serious, so point me at that scrum. v the Footballer He pulled my hair and tugged my shirt, then broke a fingernail, get a grip ref, send him off, I'm feeling rather pale.
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Sportswoman
Posted on 9th Mar 2022
Sportswoman When she wittered to me Too much sport on TV I told her to stop talking tosh, So she gained eighteen stone And now doesn't moan, Instead, we enjoy playing squash.
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Contrasting Styles
Posted on 11th Jan 2022
Contrasting Styles Australia, when they're batting Accumulate the runs. England, on the other hand Are only there for fun. When it's our turn at the crease, The runs stay fairly static, It's the way our wickets tumble That's really quite dramatic.
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The Ashes
Posted on 1st Jan 2022
The Ashes Our Ashes in ashes As down goes each wicket, Australia thrashes My team at test Cricket.
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The Tussle
Posted on 18th Oct 2021
The Tussle It's Yorksher curries v Lancashire pies, A steely fought fight for an annual prize. A modern day version of War of the Roses In which winner stands tall and proudly proposes Undisputedly, claims to their bragging rights And the chance to sleep sound in their beds at night, Whilst the losers sob into their beer And dream of successes next year. What then, is this mysterious sport With winners delighted and losers distraught? A hard combination of skill and sheer force, Why, rugby league, women's version, of course.
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The Super Sub
Posted on 26th Sep 2021
The Super Sub The manager does his finger dance, whilst sub looks on, bemused, askance, the boss's words, distorted fuzz, he'll run around, he always does, and if he scores, the avid fan believes it's all some master plan.
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A gentle game
Posted on 21st Sep 2021
A gentle game Hot summer haze, play several days. Fluffy clouds billow, leather on willow. Fifth day it pours, call it a draw. Pick up the wickets, end of the cricket.
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Red Card
Posted on 20th Sep 2021
Red Card The card was red, it had to be, he broke his leg in places, three. The challenge reckless, no intent, stupid, feckless, no harm meant. Result was clear, the match was lost, the lad's career a heavy cost.
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A Good Sport
Posted on 2nd Sep 2021
A Good Sport A studious sort, She had no time for sport, Or the chaps who showed sporting endeavour, Till, discovering sex, She discarded her specs, And had a great time, whensoever.
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The short-sighted cricketer
Posted on 17th Aug 2021
The short sighted cricketer
The batsman strolled up to the crease,
Stumbling and peering and prying,
Then took out a handsome glass piece,
And said,"Hang on, I'm getting my eye in."
Hobbo's Poems 