WHAT ON EARTH ARE WE DOING HERE? By Jo Bulis

T’is Friday night in the Sports hall
And slowly gathering there
By ones and twos they come
To lay their weapons bare.

They clad themselves in lames,
In helmets and plastron
They search for gloves and breeches
And struggle to get them on.

And waiting to take their payment
For the privilege of the fight,
One Francois, our good Chairman,
Avowed to get things right.

And as he counts the silver
There’s a flurry at the door,
And Lee and Frank come bounding through
In time to take the floor.

With calm and clear instruction
They aim to teach this art
To eager-minded apprentices
Who make ready for the start.

They assume en-guard position,
And are waiting to begin,
When, panting, hot and breathless
The President crashes in,

“Sorry, I’m so late guys,
I can’t believe the time!”
He takes a swig of latte
As his mobile starts to chime.

“No, I can’t, I’m teaching.
Speak to you later!” he cries,
Then changes, Superhero-quick,
Into his grand disguise.

For, on Thursdays and on Friday nights,
Those stalwarts who engage,
Within the echoing Sports hall walls,
Are actors on a stage.

Performing deft manoeuvres,
With sabre, epee and foil,
Parrying and riposting
And sweating as they toil.

(Witness the pong from the laundry bag
Which some soul has to take,
Unto the college laundry
Sweet-smelling for to make).

Yes, every week and every month
The members and committee,
Make up this motley group of folk
To play this sport out neatly...

With verve and vim and vigour
They lunge and cut and thrust,
With style and with etiquette
They practice mutual trust.

For that is what it’s all about,
Not just a winning thirst,
But playing by exacting rules,
And Sportsmanship is First!

A place that has good values,
And honour at its hub,
That’s why we’re all a part of Chichester
Community Fencing Club.