Imprisoned In A Cage Of Sound, Even

Hymns Are The Poetry Of The People.

And I Think It Was The Outline Of That Church Tower At Belaugh Against The Sky Which Gave Me A Passion For Churches So That Every Church I've Past Since I've Wanted To Stop And Look In.

Gracious Lord, Oh Bomb The Germans. Spare Their Women For Thy Sake, And If That Is Not Too Easy, We Will Pardon Thy Mistake. But, Gracious Lord, Whate'er Shall Be, Don't Let Anyone Bomb Me.

Lord, Reserve For Me A Crown, And Do Not Let My Shares Go Down.

Topography Is One Of My Chief Themes In My Poetry, About The Country, The Suburbs And The Seaside. Then There Comes Love... And Increasingly; The Fear Of Death.