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POEM OF THE MONTH

Tiger's Lair
 

Phil May is singing
his little heart out

 

in his black shirt
and black slacks.

 

His Elvis legs are
all over the place

 

and the audience
are entranced.

 

If I had one ounce
of his charisma

 

I would consider
myself blessed

 

and if this was
Britain's Got Talent

 

the golden buzzer
would be pressed.

YOU CAN BUY A HANDWRITTEN VERSION OF THIS POEM IN THE SHOP


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