The Golden Hour
So finally the Olympic flame is snuffed.
Two weeks of stress, joy, sweat and tears,
Four years of training hard, rewarded well
Upon the track, the field, on wheels
And on the water.
Success for Team GB.
The expectation and extreme emotion,
Superlatives and athletes exhausted.
The richest vein was mined on Saturday:
Triple gold in five and forty minutes.
So proud a moment - Greg and Mo and Jessica,
Three golden children of Britannia.
Heroes now glorified on postage stamps.
Such sweet success; we're striving not to wallow,
But yet, for Rio, what an act to follow!
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (The Golden Hour by William Messent )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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