"Dear Lord"

I’m terribly sorry for your loss

Is there a worse time to die...

On Good Friday of all days!

Well apart from Christmas

You expect everyone to be happy then.

I’m gutted for you really.

It’s put me right off my Easter eggs

If only I’d waited until Monday

When they’ll be half price

Down the Co-Op.

I know it sounds strange

Speaking ill of the dead

But Jesus Christ mate

How could you?

I mean...

Faking your own death?

What are you?

Some kind of benefits cheat?

And just before a General Election too.

That Nigel Farage bloke

Is gonna have a field day with you

If he finds out.

Probably accuse you

Of being one of those asylum seekers

On the way to Dover

Claiming some sort of persecution.

If I were you

I’d keep it quiet

And not blab about it.

But when did you ever listen to me?

Not surprising seeing as we only

Pretended to chat

And that was when I was a kid.

I guess I’m too far down

Your list of priorities.

So I’m not too bovvered

If you cop a deaf ‘un...

But if it’s not too cheeky

I know a bloke called Gavin

He’s been having

A bit of a bad time recently.

Dunno if you know him

Or if he’s one of your type

Ahem, so to speak, no offence!

But I do know..

You’re a bit special...

In the Paul Daniels department.

It’s not for me, you understand

The poor chap must be under

A  lot of pressure at the moment.

So if you can help him out...

I’m not asking for

One of your spectaculars.

None of that fishes and loaves stuff.

We don’t need that water into wine trick either

To be honest...

More bloody wine on the terraces

Is the last thing we need at the moment

The amount some of our ‘nouveau’

Middle class fans can quaff.

Sorry, me old mucker,  I’m rambling.

Nah, what I’m trying to say is..

As you know my name ain’t Thomas

But I am a bit of a doubter

So if you could put me right

And help Gavin out in the process-

Three points from Witham Town tomorrow

Would be bloody marvellous!

If you could sort that out...

Well, I’ve probably gone on

A bit too much already.

Maybe we could just chat some more on Sunday

When you’re out and about.

And perhaps we can discuss

The Enfield Town game on Easter Monday.

I’m sure all sorts ask you

For all sorts of ridiculous things.

Surely two little wins

For the once mighty Hamlet

Ain’t too much to ask for?

Do that mate and even I

Might believe in miracles!

I won’t push it...

I mean...you’re quite fit and all that

But with that scruffy beard

I’m not gonna call you

A ‘sexy thing’ at the same time

Even though you might get me

Believing in miracles.

Oh..and get rid of those sandals.

Once you’re through the Tunnel

That’s if Farage was right,

Head to Lillywhites

And pick up some cheap Reeboks.

People might take you more seriously then.

Dulwich Poet 3rd April 2015

(Ha, ha! Not sure how this one evolved! Today is Good Friday, & I'm not religious. Dulwich Hamlet are in terrible form, we haven't won since the middle of February...& in this poem I've asked for some help in picking up some points, for our manager Gavin Rose...)