Swanwick Pentrich Road
Hidden.
Even the access street
Shrank
From the Pentrich Road,
Which, in turn, withered into a sunlit track,
Opening eventually into a concise parking space
And a clubhouse, a shack to be frank:
Swanwick FC, where my presence was bidden…
Intrigued
By the tight, clustered
Proximity
Of the outbuildings,
Which nestled, puckered in sunlight’s glare,
Opening earnestly upon an undulating field
And shelters and dining chairs, incongruously:
Swanwick FC, where a fascination was conceived…
And I had a shrinking feeling
Of length and width and time;
The plateau on an uneven pitch
Offered accurate passing no reason or rhyme;
The shrinking of daylight and the thinking
Of a referee, nervously predicting
Summer’s natural lustre with dusk would fade,
Resulted in an early, hurried start,
And with a crowded surface playing its part,
Only eighty of the prescribed ninety minutes were played…
Pete Ray
21-08-2014
Swanwick Pentrich Road: a first intriguing visit.
Small pitch, an itchy, time-conscious official and lots of tall players, which caused the game to look like a match in a dense forest at times…
Loved it.
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