Mrs Norfolk Jim
¶ 1
Leave a comment on verse 1 0
Mrs Norfolk Jim,
your husband met a Ukrainian
while you were shopping in a ‘fine city.’
¶ 2
Leave a comment on verse 2 0
He had too much integrity
to impregnate her with more than
footballing wisdom
¶ 3
Leave a comment on verse 3 0
Penned in before a sea of black and orange,
he watched his team through a veil of netting;
saw Hangeland head us to Turin
and another mad journey for Norfolk Jim
¶ 4
Leave a comment on verse 4 0
He travelled to Donetsk via Istanbul,
Now it’s Italy through the Bay of Pigs,
Suez Canal or Firth of Forth:
From Yarmouth on a catamaran
if Ryanair diversify
¶ 5
Leave a comment on verse 5 0
Tombland, Castle Mall, Unthank Road
Basel, Turin, Donetsk and Rome
¶ 6
Leave a comment on verse 6 0
Where, O Annual Leave, is your sting?
Jim can’t remember what that phrase means
as he soars through its limits and lives on the wing.
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
0 Comments on verse 2
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 2
0 Comments on verse 3
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 3
0 Comments on verse 4
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 4
0 Comments on verse 5
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 5
0 Comments on verse 6
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 6