Silky and sweet,
His words were a treat,
The Holders sat still,
Admiring his skill.
Then came the sound,
The North Sound sound,
Flory spun round,
Like a virile young hound.
He didn't baulk,
He got back to the hawk,
Mumbwa's the game,
Where he'd find his fame.
report, page-13
-
- There are more pages in this discussion • 5 more messages in this thread...
You’re viewing a single post only. To view the entire thread just sign in or Join Now (FREE)
