The darkness rolled in like a morning sea fret,
Gluing us to warm memories and to our beds,
Over which autumn’s duvet had been pulled,
Under which the bustle of summer, lay quietly lulled.
A home for the poems written by Graham Parker
The darkness rolled in like a morning sea fret,
Gluing us to warm memories and to our beds,
Over which autumn’s duvet had been pulled,
Under which the bustle of summer, lay quietly lulled.