The Games - by Neil Gilson

The time is set – the place appointed
Look up – a sea of faces gazing down
The applause and cheers reverberate around
To create that cacophony of sound
That patters like the rain – upon the pane
Ah yes – the pain
All in the cause – to gain
That gold medallion
That would brighten all our days
And reflect glory both on us and all around
To those we hold so dear
And create within us that desire
To return – and reach within the fire – again
And enable our past achievements
To radiate fresh glory on us and ours