John,
That's such a splendid idea. I wouldn't dare touch Philip Larkin after that. I chose another favourite poet of mine.
John Betjeman
I’d own a teashop in a street
Where conversation isn’t drowned
By traffic noise. A quiet retreat
Where teacups make a gentle sound.
Brown earthen teapots, scones with cream,
And racks with Punch and Country Life,
For supermarket girls to dream
Of love and being a country wife.
There’d be a tinkle from the door
When customers went out or in,
And table cloths, and on the floor
Some faded rugs to damp the din.
I’d listen and I’d watch and quite
Forget the grief that makes me write.
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