THE football player, as he casts aside His moleskins and his helmet, never thinks Of punts and touchdowns—that's all done—he speeds To get his share of cool, delicious drinks. And, most of all, the battered warriors fly To stuff themselves with creampuffs and with pie! You can't eat pie while you are training, and Pastry is banned completely—such a life! Through all the nights of autumn, every star Dreams of tremendous deeds with fork and knife— The season's over—victory and defeat Count nothing now—just see those battlers eat! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYERS OF STEEL by CARL SANDBURG LITTLE JESUS by FRANCIS THOMPSON THE ROSE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LESBIA'S COMPLAINT AGAINST THYRISIS HIS INCONSTANCY; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES DEAD AUTUMN by BEULAH ALLYNE BELL SONNET: ONE MORE BRUISED HEART by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |