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If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. . I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. I cannot explain beyond that.

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This video was uploaded to porno-rus.online on 08-06-2024 22:50:09

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