Rolled Gold; A Poem by Alan Whitfield


Rolled Gold

Rigid refusal,
a part not taken,
an outsider looks in,
a grand stage in the making.

4 years to form,
pulled in by captivation,
a flag a smile,
jacks untied as a nation.

A pistols the call,
some focus with hesitation,
while more strive with determination,
watching evoking mass participation.

Underdogs in disguise,
favored hero in demise,
a pin up a poster,
thousandths’ of  a second bring win closer.



Author: alanwhitfield80

Hello! I get about a bit so here about me first. I am a visual artist and poet who works within the context of fine art. My work is grounded in documentary, exploring the inner beauty of everyday life through various lens based media. Notions of nostalgia and social commentary are present, but from a definite northern working class perspective. Instinctively I exploring the townscapes of North Wales and the North West, often producing work that reflects the every day minutiae of life.

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