I am still reeling with delight at the soaring majesty of Norfolk.
On out deathbeds we're not going to regret all the work we didn't do. We're going to regret all the sex we didn't have!
Imprisoned in a cage of sound, even the trivial seems profound
And now, dear Lord, I cannot wait Because I have a luncheon date.
Too many people in the modern world view poetry as a luxury, not a necessity like petrol. But to me it's the oil of life.
Oh Wasn't it naughty of Smudges? Oh, Mummy, I'm sick with disgust. She threww me in front of the judges, And my silly old collar-bone's bust.