Not bad.
I’ve penned a slightly longer version:
From the Solent’s tide, where saints are made,
A youngster rose through Southampton’s shade.
Fleet of foot and sharp of mind,
With every feint the crowd aligned.
Whispers grew of a skilful flame,
A boy whose boots outpaced his name.
The deal was long, the papers slow,
But talent waits, and rivers flow.
Now Merseyside awaits the spark,
Goodison’s roar, the Toffees’ mark.
In blue he’ll craft his rising song,
Among the bold where dreams belong.
A chapter ends, another starts,
He carries hope in Everton hearts.
And should the journey twist or bend,
The ball will find his feet again.
Apologies for the Goodison reference - couldn’t fit Hill Dickinson Bramley Moore Dock.