To natives, I’m a 212.
New Yorker vibes, I fear that’s true.
To dwell in Norfolk’s universe,
One must eschew the city’s curse.

A newbie ought to prove his steel.
And aid our precious commonweal
So when did you last volunteer?
To join that very gen’rous sphere?

The ambulance, it needs a crew.
NVFD, they need you, too.
Or maybe you just need a church.
Don’t leave our padres in the lurch.

We are indeed a lovely village.
’Tis true despite a recent spillage.
There’s Maple Ave. and Laurel Way.
So, lots of room to live and play.

The winter wanes. Farewell to snow.
The season of mud’s our quid pro quo.
Our newish steeple bells should ring
To herald in the nascent Spring.

Oh, by the way, I have a thought,
Pronouncing Norfolk is ever fraught.
A few say this, a few say that …
But little reason for a spat.

Go take a ride to George’s gas,
Be sure to stop; you mustn’t pass.
Do let the boys adjust your torque
They are the champs of all Norfolk.

Or take a stroll down Ashpohtag
If hiking is your fav’rite bag.
The Wood Creek view is not a joke.
A special gem of old Norfolk.

What’s better in your bank account
Than beauty such as Haystack Mount?
The scenery will bring you luck,
The best to see in all Norfolk.

The choice is yours, my rhyming friend.
’Tis time this poem has an end.
So choose the “folk” that suits you best.
’Cause now, your bard must take a rest.