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I lingered round them under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. So the story goes.

It is not enough to seek Who the hell was Mervyn Peake?

When thinking errant Edward Plunkett Just stop and think A bullet if you can Like the man Said

The true inspiration for Aeon Flux and extra special things redux

Conan, Kull, and Solomon are kings Immune from all indentured slings

Should the master speak The boards may creak

The night crew And the shadows grew

What the dickens? The plot thickens And she likes it that way

Mrs. Henry Wood Even if she could Claims she never, ever would In East Lynne or London West Everything is for the best So there!