The Shootout Poem by Michael Fischer
The Shootout
The northern brisk wind comes in
and my anticipation burns within.
My fate lies fifty feet ahead of me.
The judge is the opposing goalie.
Do I deke, shoot it five hole,
or blast it to score the goal?
I put stick on ball and move in.
As I close in, I see a hole open.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Best Poems
Best Member Poems
Best Classical Poems
New Poems
New Poets
Best Member Poets
Best Classical Poets
Explore Poems
Explore Poets
Poem Of The Day
Love Poems
Baby Poems
Death Poems
Sad Poems
Birthday Poems
Wedding Poems
Nature Poems
Sorry Poems
Hero Poems
Poetry E-Books
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
9/19/2024 1:42:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
