Skip to content

Poems on the Underground

  • Poems on the Underground
  • This Month’s Poems
  • Poem of the Week
  • Favourites
  • Index
  • About Us…
  • Menu

Prelude 1

Prelude 1, T.S. Eliot 'The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o’clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimney-pots, And at the corner of the street A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps.'

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • WhatsApp

Imtiaz Dharker Twitter

My Tweets

George Szirtes Twitter

My Tweets

Imtiaz Dharker FB

Imtiaz Dharker FB

George Szirtes FB

George Szirtes FB
A SiteOrigin Theme