Through this driving rain,
Off to Grandma’s once again.
Muted Christmas songs.
No one wants to sing along.
A mournful background sound,
Drowned without hesitation
By adolescent recitation
Of somber death, poetry
From the nineteenth century.
Through this driving rain,
Off to Grandma’s once again.
Muted Christmas songs.
No one wants to sing along.
A mournful background sound,
Drowned without hesitation
By adolescent recitation
Of somber death, poetry
From the nineteenth century.
Ah, a grandson after my own heart 🙂
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Can there be a finer Christmas sentiment in these; the waning years of our culture, than Wilford Owen’s “Dulce et Decorum Est”?
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