With apologies to Rupert Brooke
Just now the lilacs aren’t in bloom
all before his little room,
and from his flower beds I think
have gone the carnation, and the pink,
and in his borders well I know
poppies and pansies no longer blow.
Grantchester, oh Grantchester!
There should be peace and quiet there.
Rupert Brooke would have a fit
if he went back to visit it.
Continue reading
He had started the morning as just another tourist with a camera. He’d been snapping away at every landmark on his tour around Paris. He was now walking the length of the Champs Elysees from the Arc de Triomphe, capturing on camera all he could of Parisian life.
He heard a car screech to a halt close by, and turned to see what was happening. A large man in black got out of the car, and ran towards him. Continue reading
