Own Goal
Cast up on a desert island,
hut to be erected,
food to be found.
Making something I can call ‘my land'
to protect and be protected
on my own ground.
Another somewhere
to be hot and cold in.
A here (or there)
to be young (grow old) in.
Another invitation
to play Now or Never
(and earn consolation
for Honest Endeavour) .
Another attempt
to eat Pie in the Sky
(and hear their contempt
as the Seagulls float by) .
With sweat and grunts the Cosmic Mole
digs ever deepwards to his Own Goal
and when he makes it to his brand new lair
he finds his footprints are already There!
poem by Brian Taylor
Added by Poetry Lover
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