Norm was a fisherman down at the pier
He’d swill whiskey all through the year
One day he sorta
Fell into the water
And that was the end for old Norm, the poor dear
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Published by sensualism
With my head in the sky and my wings in the air, I try to spend my spare time at the footy (AFL in Australia) Go Pies! – and valuable hours with family and friends. Otherwise I’ll have pen in hand and notebook at the ready for those insightful snippets that dream up a poem.
I contribute to Cosmofunnel where you’ll find a guided universe of poetry and art.
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