Fanatics fixed their eyes upon
The screen to cheer their team
The mood there in the air was tense
Tricolor seemed out of steam

The clock was counting down
The time was drawing nigh
Doomed to lose and head on home
Bid Russia their goodbye

An errant shot deflected out
Gave them one last chance
To score a goal and prance about
Show off their famous dance

From the corner, the ball soared in
A hero rose above
Mina smacked it with his head
And won his country's love

England shocked to see the win
Snatched right from their grasp
Colombia delirious
Successful at last gasp

And thus the game was sent along
Into the overtime
Two periods were played to nil
Two teams full in their prime

Penalties would now decide
Which team would advance
The locals glued to their tvs
The nation in a trance

Falcao scores! Kane as well!
Cuadrado, Rashford too!
Muriel then strikes one home
Tricolor up three to two!

Ospina blocks the next one
Hypes up the frenzied crowd
But Uribe hits the crossbar
And the silence echoes loud

Trippier knots it up again
We're down to final shots
Bacca fails to get his through
Past Pickford's valiant swat

Fate rests upon this final kick
Well placed with perfect spin
Just past Ospina's outstreched hands
Dier seals the win

The cafeteros reel from shock
No sign of jubilation
But still the crowd, crushed in defeat
Show their appreciation

Colombia eliminated
We give them all a hand
And though their World Cup here is done
I'm now their biggest fan

What is a happening but conscious cloud
bands the bright earth with softer mysteries.
A perfect balance between waking and dreams
so mastered by the brute blood of the air.
To be the thing being breathed
in burning whatever's inside that won't sleep.
More real than the real horizon,
awake for ever in a sweet unrest.
Higher, touching, sometimes fumbling
that's flowering. You're no good host to this.
For in my arms I hold
the value of being pleasant
in perfect time and measure.
It sorta works this time my love.

(Volkman, Colborne-Veel, Zagajewskiy, Yeats, Lasky,
W.S. Di Piero, Galvin, Keats, Irwin, Malech, Auden,
Uribe, Emerson, Olin)

It was simply Smokey as if the pieces still slipping down her ****** had in those extra days marinated and were now ready to come out to the light of day to become jerky