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“… Sharing a park bench quietly?”
A park bench. Two old men, ‘lost in their overcoats’. And two young men, Simon and Garfunkel, perceptive enough in their mid-twenties to understand the importance of that friendship – and that bench. ’How terribly strange,’ they sang, ‘to be … Continue reading
The ruder world. Some random thoughts on spring, joy and harsh reality
Come, luscious spring, come with thy mossy roots, Thy weed-strown banks, young grass, and tender shoots Of woods newly-plashed, sweet smells of opening blooms, Sweet sunny mornings, and right glorious dooms Of happiness, to seek and harbour in, Far from … Continue reading
