Holiday Heaven
¶ 1
Leave a comment on verse 1 0
In the town of Cala’n Forcat
On Menorca’s western tip,
There was nothing much to gawk at
On the little tourist strip.
There were restaurants a-plenty
Selling glorified fast food,
Souvenir shops by the twenty,
For the crass and kitsch and crude.
So we wandered after eating
Looking for a likely bar
That had comfortable seating
And a decent looking jar.
Eventually we opted
For one owned by Jimmy Hill.
‘Twas my brother-in-law who copped it
And I’m grateful to him still.
The waiting girl was pretty
But our eyeballs quickly fell
On the Reds and Derry City
Playing at the Brandywell.
Comments
0 Comments on the whole Poem
Create an account to leave a comment on the whole Poem
0 Comments on verse 1
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 1