Mastery in poetry consists largely in the instinct for not ruining or smothering or tinkering with moments of vision. — Edmund Blunden Copy Share Image
Like the bee that now is blown, Honey-heavy on my hand, From his toppling tansy-throne In the green tempestuous land — Edmund Blunden Copy Share Image
Mastery in poetry consists largely in the instinct for not ruining or smothering or tinkering with moments of vision. — Edmund Blunden Copy Share Image
Cricket to us was more than play, it was a worship in the summer sun. — Edmund Blunden Copy Share Image
“Devise some creed, and live it, beyond theirs, Or I shall think you but their spendthrift heirs.” — Edmund Blunden Copy Share Image
