And London Shops On Christmas Eve Are

I Ought To Warn You That My Verse Is Of No Interest To People Who Can Think.

Old Men Who Never Cheated, Never Doubted, Communicated Monthly, Sit And Stare At The New Suburb Stretched Beyond The Run-way Where A Young Man Lands Hatless From The Air.

And London Shops On Christmas Eve Are Strung With Silver Bells And Flowers As Hurrying Clerks The City Leave To Pigeon-haunted Classic Towers, And Marbled Clouds Go Scudding By The Many-steepled London Sky

Norfolk Would Not Be Norfolk Without A Church Tower On The Horizon Or Round A Corner Up A Lane. We Cannot Spare A Single Norfolk Church. When A Church Has Been Pulled Down The Country Seems Empty Or Is Like A Necklace With A Jewel Missing.

One Mark Of Good Verse Is Surprise