The Rugby Rumble Poem by Ronni ManoaHofbauer

The Rugby Rumble

A dance of giants upon the green stage,
Muscled titans, their primal rage unleashed.
They collide with thunderous, bone-shaking might,
A symphony of impacts, a primal delight.

The oval ball, a slippery siren's call,
Passed, kicked, chased with reckless abandon.
Defenders converge, a human fortress wall,
Breached by fleet-footed forwards, their momentum unbroken.

Through the trenches they plow, grunting and driven,
Inches mean victory, any ground must be given.
The crowd's rising roar, a rallying cry,
Fueling the warriors, their spirits to sanctify.

But amidst the chaos, flashes of grace arise -
A sidestep, a fend, a try that electrifies.
Poetry in motion, ballet on the pitch,
Skill and strategy, the rugby gods bewitched.

For beneath the bludgeon, the artistry abides,
Tactics and techniques that the mind's eye divides.
The game's dichotomy - primal and sublime,
A timeless clash, rugby's eternal rhyme.

Whether watching from stands or viewing TV,
The rugby rumble casts its spellbinding spell.
For once bitten by its fever, its rhythm, its roar,
This sport of kings will entrance forevermore.

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