Fate – Skirtingroundmylife

Sunset Years

This is my new poem on the topic of ageing I’ve given it the title Sunset Years I hope you enjoy the read.

Sunset Years

When the envelope arrived
in the morning post
I was hit by a bolt from the blue
I turned white as a ghost
as my travel card came with no date by which to renew
It dawned on me I’m a old girl now
but I won’t be held hostage to fears
this is my journey
to make my time mine
It’s the start of my sunset years

Now alas my new card
had no sign for companion
so I paused for a moment to think
I had dreamed of the day I’d go back to the dancing
as my face turned a bright shade of pink
it was time to get my big girl pants on
a time to accept my reality
well look at Madonna
she’s older than me
and she’s always prepared for new challenges.

If I could just be more like her
you never know who I’d impress
I really must stop being frightened of fate
and be open to what it suggests . well I’ll show I’ve still got it
in my little black dress
and that fishnets look good on my legs
they’ll be no second prizes for me anymore
all I ask is a little respect

so it’s time to make my sixties swing
and let my dreams run riot
It’s ballroom not clubbing
that’s that’s this woman’s thing
and I’m not in the mood to be quiet
not for me the easy choice
I’ll raise my hemline and my voice
well it’s my life and I’ll enjoy
the days of my sunset years.

Trophy Girl

In this poem I tackle the issue of LGBT footballers and why it’s so hard for them to come out even after they’ve stopped playing. It’s based on a true story that actually happened to me. I’ve given it the title Trophy Girl I hope you enjoy the read

Trophy Girl

I met him on a Sunday night
late summer maybe early autumn
Scotland was a different place
in those early millennium years
and I hadn’t come fully out
my road to transition was only just beginning
he never saw me at my best
in a little black dress
I was still too scared to be me
yet he flirted with me
when we met in the city centre
inviting me for a drink
I blushed reluctantly before declining
there was no silver lining in this
I never did get that kiss
we knew we both wanted to share
me and the football player
I never got the chance to dance
at the secret rendezvous
or lose myself in the arms
of the man I wanted to claim me
the star with no name
except to those who used to cheer him
from the terracing and stands
at the club he used to play for each Saturday
at a time when attitudes to sexuality
were even more hidden than now
our chance meeting happened
long after his playing days were over
and though hormones danced
at the thoughts that raced through my mind
I knew that fate had decided it wasn’t for me
and can only wonder what might have been
had we met the night before
when I was dolled up on the dance floor
ready to take my chances in the hope of being the trophy girl

TikTok Dancer

This poem was inspired by an Instagram post by a young women footballer which featured her and her best friend who is also a footballer. I’ve seen both of them play for Scotland’s under 19’s and believe that both of them will go on to become regulars in the Scotland team in years to come. The players concerned are Amy Muir and Emily Mutch and the poem they inspired me to write about myself is titled TikTok Dancer I hope you enjoy the read .

TikTok Dancer

I might do a dance on a TikTok video
or maybe run the world like I did in 86
I don’t believe in limits I find them too restrictive
I’d try to do the can can
but I’m crap at doing high kicks

I’d like to try and learn guitar
and conversational Gaelic
I can’t just let the world go by
and leave my life to fate
so maybe now’s the time at last
to publish my collection of
poems that rock, inspire, and shock
that TikTok dance can wait.

Once City Always City (What A Difference A Year Makes)

So, I was sitting my flat doing nothing very much in particular, when my flatmate says there’s something on at 6 o’clock you might enjoy. Now with me being me, I thought it’s either a comedy show I like or maybe a Celtic game repeating a League decider we won or a Scottish Cup Final victory.

As it turned out it was neither of these, though it was football related and in a way you would never have thought of even a year ago. The game my flatmate was talking about was Glasgow City V Hibernian in the 2019 League Cup Final. I don’t think she realised that was the cup final we yes I did say we, didn’t win in what was a Double Winning season for the club. I think I’ll cut my flatmate a wee bit of slack on that though as on this occasion it really was the thought that counted. After all it was a thought which would never have occurred to her even 12 short months ago when Scotland’s women boarded the plane to take part in the 2019 FIFA World Cup in France.

In the run up to that history making event few if any among us could have envisaged the impact this team of talented fighters would have on a nation’s emotions, as we invested all we had, in their rollercoaster of a journey. To be honest I don’t think any of my friends could have predicted the impact it would have on me or the long term bond I would form with a certain football club because of it.

As someone who has always been fiercely, some might say ferociously patriotic, I was always going to show my support for my country. That said, there was something about this that felt different. It felt right that I as a transwoman at the later end of her fifties should get behind our girls and for once I wasn’t being asked by some out of condition chauvinist why as a burd, their words not mine and yes this has actually happened to me, I was bothering about football when I should stick to baking and ballet. This time , my support was seen as acceptable. It was seen as normal if you like, even by the most prejudiced dyed in the wool football should be left to the men types. However, it was in the aftermath of the World Cup that my support for the women’s game really began to blossom as I attended all three of Scotland’s games in the Under 19 European Championships we hosted last July.

As I cheered the girls on in the glorious sunshine of Paisley and Maryhill I began to feel an emotional attachment I would never have thought possible just a few short months before. Even though I had been a proud member of the Scotland Women’s National Team’s Poetry Society which was formed by the curator of the Hampden Collection Jim Mackintosh and had written a number of poems for the girls during the World Cup. To be honest I thought that may be where my poems on the women’s game would reach journeys end. Fate however, as we know, can play a part when we least expect it and far from ending it being the mistress it is decided I hadn’t even started yet. Soon, inspired by our under 19’s I was writing almost as many poems on the women’s game as I was for my beloved hoops. This is something which I would have thought inconceivable before my passing interest developed in to a passion.

It is I think fair to say, that the atmosphere at the games I attended last summer really contributed to that development. I was pleasantly surprised at how accepting , inclusive, and all embracing it really was. This given what I’ve admitted about my personal life made it a very emotional and enjoyable experience.

It was on the journey home from the heartbreaking defeat against France who would go on to win the tournament that I had experienced this inclusion at first hand. As I waited for the train to take me back to Glasgow a young girl in her late teens asked if I had been at the game. When I said I had she asked if I had ever been a club game I said I hadn’t well at least not yet but said I would probably be going to see Celtic as they were my team and always will be.

It was at this point just as the train approached the station she said yeah that’s fine in the men’s game but you do know that they don’t play in Glasgow. I confessed to her that I didn’t know that as I was despite my age a newcomer to the women’s game and wondered how long it would take to get to games. Smiling, the girl replied that there was another choice that I could and in her opinion should make, and that was to support Glasgow City. Not only did she tell me that it would be much easier to get to and from games, she also said that I should go where I was most needed and there were plenty of Celtic supporters who supported City in the women’s game.

As our train drew in to Glasgow Central I promised her I would think about it which of course I did and the rest I think we know. After much debating with myself, I finally threw my lot in with this great club and I did become a city supporter. And just as I know What It Means To Be Celtic , l now also know why we say Once City Always City. This is a club which becomes a part of you and like Celtic or any club it shapes you more than you know and earlier this evening proved that it has certainly left an imprint on my heart .

You see tonight I watched a cup final it was a game we didn’t win. Though for once the result didn’t matter tonight was all about the girls and the friend who showed me that she knew what matters and to be honest it did cheer me up just to see them play. Now I hope you know why Ill say Once City Always City with passion and with pride.

Till next time

Gayle X

Season Of Cheer

This poem commemorates a fantastic Women’s Scottish Cup and the end of a memorable double winning season for the girls of. Glasgow City. I’ve given it the title Season Of Cheer I hope you enjoy the read

Season Of Cheer

This wasn’t Hampden in the sun

it was Tynecastle in the cold November air

as the girls gave us a Scottish Cup Final

with more twists and turns than Tommy Burns

and Glasgow City and Hibs served up

a game to remember

meanwhile my flatmate who hates the festive season

though she quite likes Santa Claus

was watching Christmas movies on TV

and I was only allowed to see it

when the adverts came on

during the commercial break

and I had to plead even for this

Hibs must have wished my pleas

had been ignored

as every time she turned it over Glasgow City scored

in my first snapshot

we went from being 1-0 down

to leading 2-1 at the break

but the next time I tuned in

that lead had been wiped away and Hibs were winning 3-2

then right on cue Claire headed home the equaliser

with the teams level at 3-3

the game flowed from end to end

the tension increased

and I had to rely on tweets

as I prayed for a winning goal

in a cracking game both sides fought for control

and kept on keeping on

giving all they had in the name of Scottish Cup glory

but there was one final twist to this story

as Claire picked the perfect moment to shine

with a goal so sublime it was fit to win any game

leaving her marker in her wake

she cut in from the wing

and made no mistake as she rifled her shot to the net

it was the perfect end to an amazing game

a game in which both teams played their part

and in fitting finale to a glorious season

it brought the cup back to Petershill Park

for the first time since 2015

as I smiled I asked myself

was it a dream that I had seen all four of City’s goals

yet none of Hibernian’s three

till they were replayed on TV

well actually it wasn’t

it was just a quirk of fate

and finally the flatmate who hates Christmas

witnessed the delivery of a trophy

which completed a season of cheer

and wrapped up league and cup double

just in time for the girls to write their letter to Santa.

Leave It To Fate

With this being a Saturday night the night when most of us are or have at some stage put on our dancing shoes in the hope of finding the one I thought I would share this poem from the archives on the perils of dating. I’ve given it the title Leave It To Fate I hope you enjoy the read.

Leave It To Fate

Want to find my perfect partner
my gorgeous knight in shining armour
but with my busy schedule it can be frustrating
I don’t have any time for dating

I told my friend and she replied
I know how you can find that guy
I said you do then please tell all
this search is driving me up the wall

she told me focus on your target
It’s the thinking girl’s way to become a man magnet
if you want Mr Right I have to rebrand you
I have to make him understand you

we must expand your social scene
yes I know that your a dancing queen
but don’t restrict yourself to types
try new markets every night

who knows where Cupid fires his bow
on a bus or at a show
it might be at a football game
or when you’re out walking and it starts to rain

Or maybe you might click on line
at www. he’s mine
or even try a personal ad
but I screamed your suggestions are driving me mad

ok she said as she yelled down the phone
If you don’t want my help then your better alone
I said it’s the grief of an organised date
I’ll just head to the dancing and leave it to fate

Trailblazers

With Scotland’s football heroes now out of the Women’s World Cup this poem looks back on our final game against Argentina and emotional rollercoaster ride that was Scotland’s world cup journey. I’ve given it the title Trailblazers I hope you enjoy the read

Trailblazers

One game, one team,

one nation, one dream

defeat in our first two games

meant it had all come down

to this all or nothing decider

Argentina, our opponents in a game where the winner

would have a chance to take all

like us they also needed a victory

to have any chance of advancing to the last sixteen

as I got ready to cheer the team

I couldn’t help but get nervous

would football be genderless when to comes to Scotland and luck

surely this World Cup would be different

after all our girls deserved it

and that to me was reason enough

for fate to smile upon us

but then as I sang flower of Scotland

I remembered that heartbreak

is often just around the corner

and hoped it wouldn’t stop us

staying longer than usual at the dance

as Argentina kicked off it was they who settled better

having more of the early pressure

and the first real chance of the game

cracking the woodwork with a shot that came back in to play

and Lee Alexander did well to save

heart in my mouth I wondered

could that change the game in our favour

within two minutes I began to believe that it might

as a Kim Little strike gave us the lead

I roared like crazy for a team who were now in the pink

as the half time whistle blew

we knew it was us who were in the ascendancy

our Shelly’s army were playing with a mentality

I hadn’t seen in years

this was a team without fear who knew what had to be done

and were determined not to let the sun set on their adventures

at least not without a fight

we believed we could achieve our goal

and after a quiet start we were in total control of the game

with wee Claire Emslie showing flashes of brilliance

and Lisa, Erin, Kirsty, Rachel and others

proving that this game isn’t just for dads , uncles, and brothers

our girls had a passion and pride

for the colours they wore

no opponent could ignore

as we roared for this team

that made us proud

Leeane Crichton’s will to win was inspirational

this was sensational the stuff of dreams

and when Jen Beattie put us 2 up just after half time

I believed this would be the night

we would break our habit

of never quite making it out of the group stage

hold the front page there may been headlines to write

this was going to be Scotland’s night

and when Erin made it 3-0 with a goal of sublime skill

that had a Brazilian scored it

we’d be talking about it for years

I really began to dream

of a place in the last sixteen

but optimism has been a hostage to dreams so many times before

I still worried about the threat

from a team who had nothing to lose

substitutes had freshened them up

and when they scored what I hoped would be a consolation

I asked myself the unspeakable question

could our bad luck be about to strike again ?

my panic was setting in

and when they got a lucky second

it went in to full tartan overdrive

from cruising to victory we were now fighting to survive

and players who were running on empty

received no help from a clueless referee

who booked them for time wasting

whilst letting red card offences against us go unpunished

as Argentina pushed for an equaliser

we were exhausted and struggling

denied the chance to make substitutions

we were two players down

when they were awarded a controversial penelty

which the ref had an initially waved away

bullied and intimadated by hysterics on and off the field

a weak willed coward yielded to this crass behaviour

and after taking what seemed like an age

to watch the VAR gave into their demands

and when Lee Alexander saved

she ordered a retake and a game we should have won

was snatched from our grasp

not content with her brutal decision

she then blew the whistle

on our girls world cup dreams

playing no injury time

she gave us no chance for that death or glory goal

there was to be no reprieve

as tears flowed from our bravest and boldest

I remember what fate must have told us

a thousand times or more

there was no roar only silence

when I remembered words I’d heard so many times

that Scotland and heartbreak are old friends

who find it difficult to part company

we are hostages to dreams

but one day , we will return

to fulfill them

and Americans, Italians, and Brazilians,

will be dazzled by the brilliance

of the women who will be our future heroes

and were inspired by the ones who blazed the trail