Granchester, Ah Granchester!
There’s never any peace and quiet there.
There’s kids racing around the apple trees
shouting their heads off, and causing unease.
It’s full of temperamentvoll German tourists,
and some dusty, sweating, sick, hot racists…….
But I will use my Grantchester poem I wrote the day after we were there instead.
Take a poem you like and offer a rebuttal to the poem.