I wrote this for my son about 10 years ago. Crocus 1 I threw you high and laughed at your delight, and higher still, till fear, sleek in it’s disguise, stole time in handfuls and we stopped. Or I did. Heading for home our Spitfires, all pencil ‘tash and lady killers, flew raids into head-on… Continue reading Crocus
This and that whilst sipping a fine malt.
