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!