On the road home from Heathrow Airport I came over feeling all nostalgic and poetic. I've been fighting the urge to write something awfully cheesy about England and so this wonderfully drizzly Sunday morning I tried look for a poem which captures what I feel and want to say about this lovely little island but, I couldn't. Read on only if you want to be subjected to my awful writing...
Now don't get me wrong, I love my Brazilian man,
But not much can beat Cumberland's finest, fried in a pan.
Lashings of Marmite and butter on toast,
Just two things from home that I love the most.
Not to mention marmalade, fine or thick cut,
Or, not that I have it often, cornflakes a'la Crunchy Nut.
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| From Blogger Pictures |
or Galaxy chocolate: 'why have cotton when you can have silk?'
And the supermarkets in Russia can't contend
with Sainsburys own Earl Grey Blend.
Nor can they compare to Tesco's cheap wine selection,
The choice and prices, to me, are perfection.
Right, I think I've got it out my system, no more "poetry" from me!
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