Stimmo Poems part 2

By Denise
February 25 2003

Some more Stimmo poems for you to digest. If you want to add yours to the collection e-mail it to me at leicestertiger@yahoo.co.uk

Roonaldo

He hails from Merseyside,
A region sponsored by Lacoste.
But now it's down in Leicester
Where the locals say that he's "boss"

His boot has many a victim;
Gloucester, Bath, Stade Francais.
Even my brother was left to curse him,
When in practice the ball came his way.

The ball came from the Watford sky,
And forced Monkey onto the floor,
At the ground known by Elton John,
He won't turn his back anymore.

But despite this amusing anecdote,
I've had enough of his monkey slaying,
With many an England cap,
He's more famed for his playing.

It was on the turf of great legends,
Brian Clough, Stuart Pearce, Franz Carr,
But for Tigers those names mean nothing,
Their biggest Forest icon's the bar.

He'd given it an almighty thump,
And had kicked it way up into space,
Perhaps it was down to his technique,
Or he'd imagined it was Rob Andrew's face.

It only just sneaked over,
But for Tigers sneaked was good enough,
And the they headed off to Cardiff,
Where Munster found them just too tough.

He's getting on a bit now,
With the turning circle of an oil tanker.
But the Tigers still need his kicking,
Perhaps Deano should move him to flanker.

(p.s. sorry about the punctuation!)

Duncan Keene

There once was a Tiger called Tim,
Who Rob Andrew dropped on a whim,
Deano picked him up,
after winning the cup,
He was tall, he was strong, he was slim,

this Tiger called Tim was a star,
famed for kicking the ball very far,
agile and quick,
his passes as slick,
as singing 'hey jude' in the bar,

To Australia he should go,
to hear choruses of "swing low",
the country would see,
what a player is he,
the world cup's the stage for Stimmo,

He favours the kicks long and late,
the kinds of ones lesser men hate,
we know he will score,
and then we can roar,
this Tiger called Tim's Grrrreat!

ZaraD

Shall I compare thee to a rugby match?
Thou art more exciting & invigorating:
Rough games do mar the Welford patch,
But you always protect our wing:
Sometime too tough is the Opposition,
Your fight still carries on high,
But others would eagerly offer you a Proposition
The apple in Jnr’s eye.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that great talent;
Nor shall your shining persona go into shade,
Your truly Deano’s heir apparent;
So long as men can play, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and gives praise to thee.

Gaz

Our man Stimmo is a great full back,
I cheer him 'til I damage my larynx,
He's got the playing skills that all the others lack,
And his kicking 's even better than Sir Alex!

When discussing Stimmo, his kicks always come up,
Like the kick he scored for us in Paris,
Conversion from the touchline that won the Euro Cup,
His kicking's just as good as was Jes Harris!

When it comes to the 6 nations, he's always on the bench,
Waiting 'til he can unleash his power,
Then it's action stations against the Irish or the French,
But never any longer than an hour!

Our Stimmo runs so fast, he makes the others look like snails,
His exploits they could fill a weighty tome,
I'd like to go on longer, and tell more of his tales,
But we've come to the end of my little poem!!