Hibernian Dawn In mist‑cloaked glens where shamrocks sway, The emerald hills recall the day When Celtic hymns rose soft and low, A hymn of stone and heather’s glow. From Galway’s rugged, rain‑kissed coast To Dublin’s streets
Read more →Upon the rolling heath, a lone butte lifts, Its tabletop a steadfast stage, Against the drifting clouds it drifts, A quiet monument of age. The winds that sweep the surrounding plain Whisper tales
Read more →Green and white, the Keepmoat lights, Doncaster Rovers on the night. From Belle Vue’s echo to the modern pitch, Fans roar like thunder, hearts that twitch. A league of dreams, a clash
Read more →Pshaw! the wind may whisper through the linden, But I’ll not heed the gossip’s petty spin. With a curt “pshaw” I brush aside the bother, And let the world’s mild foolishness drift like
Read more →Green and white upon the Vetch, Where the Welsh wind hums a low chant. Swansea City, steady as the tide, Your scarves unfurl like sea‑foam ribbons, Chasing dreams across the emerald pitch, Passes slick as
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