In the quiet corners of his verse, Larkin spoke of death’s silent embrace, Whispers of an end, inevitable and terse,…
In quiet corners of their shared abode, A father stern, a mother tenderly strong, They wove the tapestry of life…
In the quiet hours of a fading light, Where shadows linger in silent flight, The ticking clock marks the relentless…
In the silent corridors of thought, Where shadows linger and memories fade, Larkin’s pen uncovers what is sought, In lines…
In the quiet corners of a northern home, Where shadows play with light’s gentle roam, A poet’s mind was gently…
In the stillness of a fading day, Larkin’s whispers linger, soft and gray. A gentle pause in life’s relentless race,…
In shadows of the past they stood, Two figures etched in quiet grace, Their lives a tapestry of moods, Woven…
In quiet corners of his mind, Larkin pondered death’s embrace, The ticking clock, a constant sound, Life’s fleeting moments, swift…
In the quiet corners of a forgotten home, Reside the echoes of lives once known. An ordinary man with dreams…
In the stillness of a winter’s breath, His words now whisper through the leaves, A poet’s life, a quiet death,…