<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=424843" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Claridges</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The same discrete blue paper and the old quill pen still play<br>upon the mind to summon summer’s memories as day<br>melts darkling sky from dusty pink to inky undertones, -<br>extrapolating time’s ebb tide, when flesh fades from the bones.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How short will be the stay this time, so few have means to pay<br>a monthly wage within the compass of a weekend, - drones<br>disguised as business men of size who bore in monotones, <br>beneath ambitions buried deep to mask their hearts’ dismay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The tasteful paper blue recalls those images of scones<br>and endless teas on sunny lawns - now concrete covers - hay<br>last harvested so long ago that only archived loans<br>remember that prosperity’s elastic silicone<br>pressed out upon b[l]uff surface, soon may wear, and tear or fray.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The phantom of King Credit past, now overdrawn and grey, <br>still stays in suite identical – though fax and telephone<br>add a touch of innovation to that décor so well known.<br>Yet despite the surface changes both cuisine and service stay<br>tailored to the highest standards, all the rules of taste obey.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">© Jonathan Robin – poem written 1 October 1992</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jonathan+Robin">Jonathan Robin</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=424843" data-title="Claridges de Jonathan Robin" data-description="The same discrete blue paper and the old quill pen still play upon the mind to summon summer’s memories as day melts darkling sky from dusty pink to inky undertones, - extrapolating time’s ebb tide, when flesh fades from the bones. How short ..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black