Eleven Nil

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Eleven nil,
How sweet the sound
That fell from lips this wrong to kill.

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Eleven nil,
Now what’s to come?
This story now our world doth fill.

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Eleven nil,
Is this the end?
The gurgle before the final swill?

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Eleven nil,
We’ve not been left,
To swallow no-deal’s bitter pill.

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Eleven nil,
I rush to say,
It may rid us of a Nation’s ill.

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Eleven nil,
Our MPs sit,
Our useless leaders they must grill.

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Eleven nil,
We won, get o’er it,
Now where doth sit thy people’s will?

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Eleven nil,
I sleep at night,
Content that law protects me still.

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Eleven nil,
All judges rule,
Unity in purpose, a warning shrill.

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Eleven nil,
It’s quite a day,
A day optimism doth refill.

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Eleven nil,
Our thanks we give,
To those who sit and judge with skill.

 

Keith Murphy