One hundred years ago today one of England's finest poets died at the Battle of Arras. Edward Thomas didn't write about the Great War per se, but about the countryside he was fighting for. One hundred and nineteen poems between 1914 and 1917, and those who love poetry will continually go back to them. No computer, no smartphone, no 'tablet', no Facebook and the only twitter the birds in the trees outside as he simply put a pen to paper:
By the ford at the town's
Horse and carter rest:
The carter smokes on the bridge
the water press in swathes about his horse's chest.
From the inn one
In the room for visitors
That has no fire, but a view
many cases of stuffed fish, vermin, and kingfishers.
Darkest Hour / Winston’s wanderings
1 day ago