To March by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) Dear March, come in! How glad I am! I looked for you before. Put down your hat — You must have walked — How out of breath you are! Dear March, how are you? And the rest? Did you leave Nature well? Oh, March, come right upstairs with me, […]
Ode to Everton . When at Thy call my weary feet I turn The gates of paradise are opened wide At Goodison I know a man can learn Rapture more rich than Anfield can provide. In Coulter’s skill and Geldard’s subtle speed I see displayed in all its matchless bounty The power of which the […]
My Old Football You can keep your antique silver and your statuettes of bronze, Your curios and tapestries so fine, But of all your treasures rare there is nothing to compare With this patched up, worn-out football pal o’ mine. Just a patched-up worn-out football, yet how it clings! I live again my happier days […]
