BESSIELAH DAVID
An entry in the Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry
If I may see the paradise banner
Every fleeting moment counts
If I am bold and proud enough,
The golden lace will survive the years.
This is our time, these are our games
To fly it high – to raise the banner
To run the race – our feet light weight
To shine the torch – of sportsmanship
If I may see our kumul, the sky is the limit
As we run, we soar, in prideful glee
The pressure is on, “We’re ready to go!”
The drum beats roll, “We’re ready to roar!”
The baton tip shines –
The podium calls
Anticipation wild, hearts boom, boom!
Wrapped with banners, one two three
At last we hear the names being called
Hands pump the air, we shout with glee
On podium stands our bronze in third,
Our silver in second and our gold in first