tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11257048.post4487949437549936860..comments2023-08-13T07:56:57.862-05:00Comments on Apartment Carpet: Poetry ThursdayStephhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18194692997497027787noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11257048.post-5076385401691774712007-09-07T13:11:00.000-05:002007-09-07T13:11:00.000-05:00Nice. I'm reminded of one of Rupert Brooke's earl...Nice. I'm reminded of one of Rupert Brooke's early poems:<BR/><BR/>Sonnet Reversed<BR/><BR/>Rupert Brooke (1887-1915)<BR/><BR/>Hand trembling towards hand; the amazing lights<BR/>Of heart and eye. They stood on supreme heights.<BR/><BR/>Ah, the delirious weeks of honeymoon!<BR/>Soon they returned, and, after strange adventures,<BR/>Settled at Balham by the end of June.<BR/>Their money was in Can. Pacs. B. Debentures,<BR/>And in Antofagastas. Still he went<BR/>Cityward daily; still she did abide<BR/>At home. And both were really quite content<BR/>With work and social pleasures. Then they died.<BR/>They left three children (besides George, who drank):<BR/>The eldest Jane, who married Mr Bell,<BR/>William, the head-clerk in the County Bank,<BR/>And Henry, a stock-broker, doing well.<BR/><BR/>FelixAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com