67 poems, something like this: On the Cotswolds 14 August 2000 When valentines come twice a year, they come across an ageless sea, across the stages of Shakespeare in search of serendipity. Here, the Avon always flows, the Norman castle ever stands, and life, in golden circles, goes around and round like wedding bands. Across the sea, a girl is born, while from a tower on a hill, you view the Cotswolds one more morn, and the winds rise, and your sails fill. Alas, the poet's endless plight, how to keep you one more night.
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