I fell off my blogging bike with the new year. Been busy scribbling and sketching and doing my bit performing with Paragram but just couldn’t get back into the swing of writing a blog.
My friend and BT Olympic Writer was kind enough to invite me to the Olympic Park last week for the London Prepares series of sporting events. This particular weekend was the official opening of the Stadium with 2012 hours to go.
I admit I’ve had mixed feelings about the games this summer but I can see now that London will have a superb legacy once the medals have been won and the razzmatazz disappears and I hope it will be freely available for all to use and enjoy.
We had a really interesting day which required an Olympic effort on our part, setting off early and returning home quite late. Unlike the atheletes our training for this cold day required fresh ground coffee and hot waffle with strawberries and cream. We sat alone in front of the Stadium wondering what this place would be like in a couple of months. Would the British weather perform to its best ability and more importantly would our hands and feet warm as the day progressed?
My poem is a thank you to Sally for an interesting day.
Early morning feet walk the Greenway,
the last mile from West Ham,
slicing through East London history
past Abbey Mills Victorian splendour,
no longer pumping but empty windows spectating.
Laughter on our lonely journey –
destination and others still to come.
We obey pink waistcoats, smiling, pointing
pink sponge glove fingers till
the Greenway ends and
Olympic Park lets us in.
We continue; follow those
who authorised our entry;
try to catch the khaki yompers
quick and light of foot, lean stride
as they move with purpose seeking out
Past contractors clobber,
past hints of meadow planting
with promise of yellow, gold.
Past the spiralled Orbit,
tallest art in Britain,
awaiting dinner guests when all medals won.
Past cedar benches wearing
gems to read while resting;
‘how starlings once slowed Big Ben’.
Past moored Velodrome, wooden clad,
set to sail when games done.
We cross the rubber bubbled pathway,
a treat to eye and aching feet, to where
suspended metal ring crowns tree –
the start of a living memory.
We take our place in Eton Park
in awe of Paralympic hopefuls
as they demonstrate how wheel can compensate;
rolling serves, double bounce,
powerful shots, spinning rallies.
Doubles teamwork – fast and funny.
We turn home behind the hockey crowd
who stadium stamped and raised the clouds
for Australia against UK.
Stomping kids with cardboard clackers
raised the dust on new laid paths
as 40,000 queued to enter
the illuminated jewel Stadium
and celebrate that 2012 hours remain.
The Greenway beckons,
our tired Olympic feet shuffle,
the unlit Torch waits its turn
as London Prepares.