I thought it strange – No breath of wind, No motion in The birch or oak, No birdsong here, No squirrel scrapes Or scrambles, makes A rustle in The leaves- Unsettling. A splint of light Had picked him out, Had traced him through The heavy canopy, And then a figure Formed- Hanging. The birch, in [...]
Perhaps you’ve heard of Mr Grimblee, A stately and grandiose man, Of generous build and a rather big beard, And a book always tight in his hand. Perhaps you’ve seen him walk about, In a slow and measured pace, And with his head up high, for passers-by, Shows a strange, expressionless face. Perhaps you [...]