Tony Elsby (Poems of life and love)
Biography of Tony Elsby (Poems of life and love)
Leicester-born Tony Elsby trained as a journalist with the Leicester Mercury and was later sports editor of two Leicestershire weeklies.
He gained a broad spectrum of experience on local, regional and national newspapers including the Peterborough Evening Telegraph, Nuneaton Tribune, Sunday Sport and Birmingham Post & Mail in such roles as reporter, feature writer, investigative and specialist columnist, and sub editor. He recently enjoyed a season as editor of the website, Vitalfootball Leicester City.
A keen sportsman Tony played, managed and coached in part-time professional football, was three times Northamptonshire County Squash Champion and long time county captain, later becoming a successful county, regional and national level coach, concluding with a tour preparing players, teams and coaches in Holland, France, Switzerland and Italy.
He ghost wrote the column of 1975 British Open squash champion Qamar Zaman for Squash Player International magazine and was privileged to play against both Zaman and the legendary Jonah Barrington, six times British Open champion.
Since running his own squash complex at Overstone, Northamptonshire, Tony has been an antiques dealer, auctioneer, and is now an increasingly wincing market trader, whose knees constantly complain about years of playing sport and standing for so long on unforgiving concrete. Ouch!
Married with three grown-up sons, he’s a keen but “sightseeing” golfer, long-suffering Leicester City fan and devotee of a certain Belgian honey beer, two pints of which, he says, have the effect of making lamp-posts look attractive and the wallet look empty! .
Readings, and “An Evening With” sessions undertaken with pleasure
Tony Elsby (Poems of life and love)'s Works:
http: //www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk/bookstore/bookdisplay.aspx? bookid=301831
Tony Elsby (Poems of life and love) Poems
A Child's Message to the World
One day I sat on Santa's knee, And he asked me what I'd like If perhaps I wanted football boots, Or a brand-new two-wheeled bike,
She rode it through the city street, In a mask to fight the smog, Slower than a motor car, But faster than policeman plod.
No journey would be too long, No effort would be too great, No call would go unheard, No sadness would remain uncomforted,
Would that I could walk with you, Along some distant seashore, Leaving only footprints To mark our passing
A curious and thirsty wasp, So sadly to relate, Happened by my woodland hut And made a big mistake,
Spare The Rod
Pain can be felt in so many ways, Through shattered bones and troubled days, But the pain of lost love, As if not enough
Her birth was long awaited, This little girl called Shelley, Who kicked and rolled and squirmed about, Before departing mummy's belly,
Those lights aren't just there for comfort, Or the sign there is safety ahead, A beacon for the end of a journey, Putting all kinds of duties to rest
What Eats You
The quicksand of love is the deepest I know, Since the Apple and Adam it sucks us in slow And once in its grip we may struggle and shout But emotions entrap and we’ll never climb out.
How well she "flew" did "Memphis Belle", Okay, her carriage was shot, Her ageing back had quite a crack, That pained her such a lot,
Toddlers Wrestling With A Tyre
'This tyre is round, Just like the earth, 'We'll put it on a bike. 'And when we get a bit older, perhaps, 'We'll go look at the world, if you like. ”
The spirit asked if I would share my dreams And she lifted me into the clouds Through the tumult of chaos we passed Leaving anger and dispute in shrouds
A Kiss For Mum
There should have been dancing And hugging, with twirls The day that you blessed us With a precious baby girl
Our Good Shepherd
She arrived as such a cuddly pup, From the smallholding where we picked her up, And took her home in our little car, In which she was sick though it wasn't far,
Spare The Rod
Pain can be felt in so many ways,
Through shattered bones and troubled days,
But the pain of lost love,
As if not enough
Can’t be helped
By whipping ourselves
© Tony Elsby, January 12,2011.