1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Dwight
With your smile so bright
Give it some torque
To your current belle
90% of men, would love to have her ring their bell
The other 10% prefer flatties, couldn’t handle the swell
But it must be hell
To be the subject of kiss and tell
Sordid secrets smell
When the passion doth quell
And yet you still play so well
Yourself and Coley gel
You’re favourite yell –
‘GOAL’, wherever, even at the Dell
Usually spells defeat, sounds the death knell
From Thailand to Ireland, from Bangkok to Clonmel
Even at Old Trafford, you have them all under your spell
In Trinidad & Tobago, on a beach, there’s a shell
That whispers the future – “if that shooting star fell
T’would be no surprise at all, if Sir Alex shouted ‘sell!’ “
So, don’t cruise or baulk
Mr Yorke
Just try with all your might


Dwight Yorke – playing with Manchester United at the time

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/yorkie/