Fancy
Fancy is a precious feeling,
One that skilfully plays with the sentence
Of social intelligence, that life is jostled with
And you must bury your head in it so that
The head is coated with living intellect.
Reason has occupied my mind
As every fancy has been obliterated
For the better, and not for the worse.
Do you interact on space and time
Like a maniac does a football pitch?
Fancy having players of sport with skills like us,
So then somehow talking is for us with them
And we can then learn sport.
I fancy the intelligence of sport.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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