Football Time

Forgive me for submitting poetry here. Forgive my repetend, too. I'm just getting a little giddy....

FOOTBALL TIME

Like Rip Van Winkle I arise
As autumn cools the Southern skies,
With Athens, Georgia on my mind—
It’s football time, it’s football time.

Although I’ve strayed on restless feet,
I’m always called to old Broad Street,
Down Milledge, on to Sanford Drive,
To feel alive, to feel alive.

To hear those ninety-thousand roar,
My Georgia heart needs little more,
Just add a dawg and bugler’s tone—
I’ve made it home, I’ve made it home.

So when I don the red and black,
And scream “Go Dawgs,” cut me some slack,
I’ve got sweet Georgia on my mind.
It’s football time. IT’S FOOTBALL TIME.

AMEN! GATA!

Mention of the bugle did it for me !!!

wlayton wrote:

Mention of the bugle did it for me !!!

YES SIR!!!! Chill bumps for sure!!

Wish I could watch the game on the boob tube. But I guess I will have to settle for listening to it on the radio. Since its race weekend in Atlanta and I will be sitting in turn 4 ambulance or extrication truck waiting for someone to crash.

WOOF WOOF indeed...That was AWESOME Limey!

Only a true, red & black bleeding, barking, Junkyard Dawg could lay down such poetry