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A poem interrupted


'I was halfway through a poem,' mooed Horace.

'Sorry,' replied Norma, 'you can always finish it off later on.'

'Writing poetry doesn't work like that,' said Horace.

'Well.......whatever,' said Norma, 'and you'll have plenty of time to write once we're at sea.'

'So do we have any idea where she wants to go?' asked Horace.

'Not a clue,' replied Norma, 'Annie thinks she'll be giving us directions as we go along.'

'Perhaps she has to migrate?' suggested Horace.

'That's certainly a possibility,' replied Norma.

'I may write a poem about her,' said Horace.

'I'm sure she'd like that,' replied Norma, 'well not sure exactly, actually now I come to think of it I don't think I've ever known what Geraldine likes or dislikes...she just seems to be there.'

'It would be interesting to find out,' said Horace.

'Yes it would,' replied Norma, 'but it'll have to wait, because right now I need you to do a job for me that's of the most critical importance.'

'Does it involve poetry?' asked Horace.

'To be honest,' replied Norma, '....no.....but it is vital.'

'So what is it?' asked Horace.

'I need you to stand in between Bertha and Captain Bill so they don't hit each other,' replied Norma.

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