The Olympic dream is one
that bites young and grown.
Blood pumps, aches come
and go. Success is homegrown.
Whether you compete or view,
commentate or congratulate,
the whole world is with you —
for high jump or speed skate.
For table tennis, archery, judo,
bobsled, skiing, gymnastics,
luge, fencing, water polo,
swimming and other classics.
Drive, passion, tears and victories,
on the podium and at the finish,
create winter and summer histories
that, like fables, never diminish.
Forget all the heartaches untold,
the crashes, pain and sadness,
remember bronze, silver and gold —
athletes shining with gladness.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: It took awhile to write an ode to gold, but I finally finished, long after the last gold was given and perhaps without the polish of Pindar. Feel free to leave a ditty here in comments to honor the athletes, many of whom have been training since they were younger than ten. The only thing I’ve been doing with regularity since age ten is writing. That would be my Olympic Sport. What would yours be?