The Loving Game

A quarter of a century ago
I hung the gloves up, knew I'd had enough
Of taking it and trying to dish it out,
Foxing them or slugging it toe-to-toe;
Keen youngster made the going a bit too rough;
The time had come to have my final bout.

I didn't run to fat though, kept in shape,
And seriously took up the loving game,
Grew moony, sighed, and even tried to sing,
Looked pretty snappy in my forty-drape.
I lost more than I won, earned little fame,
Was hurt much worse than in the other ring.


from Collected Poems 1950-1993 (Robson Books Ltd, 1993), copyright © Vernon Scannell 1993, used by permission of the author

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Vernon Scannell

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1They Did Not Expect This

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2The Lynching

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3The Great War

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4Walking Wounded

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5A Case of Murder

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6When we were Married

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7A Song to Celebrate

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8Growing Pain

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9Spot-Check at Fifty

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10The Loving Game

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11Wicket Maiden

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12The Bombing of the Cafe de Paris, 1941

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13On Leave: May 1916

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14Candle Reflections

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15Hands

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19Frying Tonight

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20The Searchers

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21Sunt Lacrimae Rerum

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