All The Little Emptiness Of Love!

For Cambridge People Rarely Smile, Being Urban, Squat, And Packed With Guile.

Cities, Like Cats, Will Reveal Themselves At Night.

Youth Is Stranger Than Fiction.

In Your Arms Was Still Delight, Quiet As A Street At Night; And Thoughts Of You, I Do Remember, Were Green Leaves In A Darkened Chamber, Were Dark Clouds In A Moonless Sky.

There Are Only Three Things In The World, One Is To Read Poetry, Another Is To Write Poetry, And The Best Of All Is To Live Poetry.