High Ball

Whether scrum halves boxing clever,
Or Fly halves in any weather;
Kicks skywards.
Snow capped, toe capped boots,
Kick off the leather; upshoots!
Spiralling up in stratosphere,
End over end, a present dear!
Lost up in the clouds,
But what goes up comes down.
The kick is only as good as the chase,
They race, reduce your time and space:
The sound of hooves of wingers, centres
Hell bent on hit, bad thoughts don't enter.
To clatter, tackle compete,
Perfect timing, hit complete!
Aerial bombardment,
is certainly your department.
But focus mind on glowing oval orb,
Magnetic arms draw in, absorb.
Your choice, to wait and call the mark,
Or leap to claim plyometric prize,
Catch, comply, arise.
Above the salmon leaps,
The ball you have for keeps;
You land and skywards pray,
Glorious catch of the day!
They cheer out in the stands
"He's got a safe pair of hands!"