For those who have not yet stumbled across this semi-precious
pasting of TS Eliot:
'We has this rather lugubrious man in a suit, and he read a poem -
I think it was called The Desert - and first the girls got the giggles,
and then I did, and then even the King. Such a gloomy man. (I think
she meant Eliot, not the King, though it's hard to tell). Looked as
though he worked in a bank and we didn't understand a word'
The Queen Mother
(happy 100th birthday Ma'am! Keep up the lit crit and poet perception.
I'm orf tut pub t' toast yer elf)
Geraldine
ps Talking of gnomes...mine almost resurrected at David's
compliment to it in its state of shattered demise - but only almost -
I'm still gnomeless. But I will call my next one Bach.
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