by Colin Dardis
There is no thrill in the assured victory,
Lady Fate cradling your path in her palms:
the fight, the struggle, tactics and stratagems,
that’s where the game lies, wrapped up not in silk,
but in blood-stained cotton, knowing mud and sweat,
soil and toil.
Whether you be best or bested,
to be tested is a triumph for all.
The squash match is a jaded contest,
for muscles that know nothing of exertion
will not grow in strength; the unchallenged spirit
will not gain in character; the pugilist
sparring below his weight class deserves
neither his place in the podium nor ring.
–
Colin Dardis is a poet, artist, and sometimes musician from Northern Ireland. His first collection, ‘left of soul’ is available via lulu.com.
The Pygmy Giant 