The Keeper’s Dance
In the box where shadows play,
A guardian stands in the fray.
With gloves so bright, and eyes like hawks,
He reads the game, he senses the thoughts.
The whistle blows, the ball takes flight,
With every strike, he feels the height.
A leap, a dive, he’s a silver kite,
Defying gravity, chasing the night.
Each save a story, each stop a dream,
In the heart of the storm, he finds his gleam.
With every roar from the crowd’s embrace,
He stands his ground, he holds his space.
So here’s to the keeper, brave and bold,
In the tales of the game, his heroics told.
With passion and pride, he guards the net,
A watchful knight, in cleats and sweat.