Norwich City

At Carrow Road the green and yellow fly,
The Canaries sing beneath a Norfolk sky.
Their hopes rise like the tide upon the Broads,
Each pass a whisper, every tackle lauded.

A gauntlet of defenders, steadfast and true,
Midfielders weave like reeds in morning dew.
Strikers hunt the goal with patient, fervent grace,
While keeper’s gloves protect the hallowed space.

The fans, a chorus loud and warm, refrain,
Their scarves aflutter like autumn’s golden rain.
Through victory’s cheer or defeat’s sober sigh,
Norwich City’s heart beats ever‑willing, never‑shy.

So here’s to yellow, to the Broad’s proud crew,
To every match, each goal, each honest view—
The club that grounds its dreams in Norfolk’s loam,
Where passion’s colour finds its honest home.