Winning Against Odds (thinking ahead to London's paralympics)

[Frank E Gibbard]

Locked into this frozen world,

Like a caged bird looking out

Forlornly from a stunted state,

Fate had shorn body's wings

Stayed flights he may fancy.

Struck by Life's cruel lottery,

Has been handed the penalty

By injustice without any parole,

A long sentence not deserved,

Served in but a word, disabled.

 

Let free at last now he was tall,

High in his chair by own merit.

Sublime delight to have made it,

In position for his sport's reward

Albeit deemed as geometrically

Only parallel to Olympic heights.

From his perspective and angle,

An award equal to in its degree

To a riband of any level or colour.

Not for him the apex of medal d'or

Or that glint of silver on his breast,

For the bronze he'd proudly settle

By test of mettle proven, enabled.

[dr_con]

Sensitively and deftly written. Nice to read you again Frank- always enjoy your clarity Olympian races into aspects of the world, many are too timid to approach. Many Thanks Frank!

 

J

[tonyv]

Another novel subject for a poem, Frank. It's well composed.

 

I like how you use the bird simile/metaphor in the first verse. It's intersting how animals seem to overcome and move on (to the best of their abilities of course) faster than humans. Perhaps they don't have the emotional attachment humans have with loss of limb? You follow that up with the second verse in which the human overcomes the odds and excels to the best of his abilities under his circumstances. Tragedy to triumph.

 

Tony