Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page
| If you have a poem you'd like to see published in The Irish Examiner then send it to:
The Poetry Corner
The Irish Examiner USA
1040 Jackson Avenue, Third Floor
Long Island City
NY 11101
or, preferably, you can email it direct to
ronniemcginn@eircom.net.
If possible keep your poem to 20 lines. You may choose any subject you like, in any form you like as long as it's original. We look forward to hearing from you. |
The Formula 1 Motor racing season had just begun when an invitation from the Keats Shelly Memorial Association to write a poem, with the word ice included in the title, arrived in the letterbox. Not being well versed on the topic of ice, I came up with this variation on the theme.
The Ice Men!
From younger than old to the latest beginner,
The fans in their thousands all queue up and pay,
To view a non-race that can not have a winner,
For it's just the big practice before the big day.
Young turbo charged hero's all set for the fray,
Strong steering wheel artists of serious fun,
The money is rolling; all the big boys must play
At the fossil fuel festival - Formula One!
The engines are revving, the moment is nearing
As one after another the red lights turn green
The roar from the grid drowns out the crowd cheering
It's a race to the finish for man and machine.
Six hundred million are glued to a screen
Watching intensely how each driver begun
In nail biting danger the start goes off clean,
The four wheel death dancers - Formula One
The wheelers and dealers with all their conniving
Their velvet rope minds keep high rollers at bay
The team and the man at the wheel doing the driving
Are who matter most at the end of the day,
Form follows, function, all engineers say
The chequered flag's waving the day's race is done
It's the clear ice cold thinker wins every which way
At the fossil fuel festival - Formula One
© Ronnie McGinn
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