.. be clever".
But does this course pay dividends?
I answer . . . hardly ever!
It's snowing feathers to-day.
Bits of maribou
From some very frivolous angel's
Small furry creatures part with life
To deck each plutocratic wife.
And many a tender throat is wrapt
In silky softness someone trapped.
I don't condemn this savage rite
Nor wince to see the endless sight
Of lovely ladies wrapt in fur . . .
Egad! I only wish I were!
She has avaricious fingers
On which there lingers
The bitter scent of almonds.
How her nails
Glitter in the candlelight.
Only her eyes
Suddenly tear you apart.
There is a look in them
Of one who gazed on death
And found it
Bookshops have a lovely smell
Sweet and sour . . . heaven and hell.
Dust and mould, and something magic,
Laughter, cheek by jo