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  <updated>2026-06-01T12:21:46+01:00</updated>
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    <name>admin</name>
    <email>niwa@bt48.com</email>
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  <entry>
    <id>1325</id>
    <title>Greacen025</title>
    <updated>Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 19:17</updated>
    <link href="https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/node/%25/atom"/>
    <collections>Unpublished Poems</collections>
    <contributor>Greacen Estate</contributor>
    <coverage>19 Jan</coverage>
    <creator>Linen Hall Library</creator>
    <date>Wednesday, March 16, 2016</date>
    <format>TIFF</format>
    <identifier>Greacen025</identifier>
    <itemdescription>Manuscript</itemdescription>
    <keywords>Flying home at Christmas</keywords>
    <language>English</language>
    <path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/greacen025</path>
    <publisher>Linen Hall Library</publisher>
    <relation>Linen Hall Library</relation>
    <rights>Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA</rights>
    <scannedimage>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Greacen025_0.jpg</scannedimage>
    <source>LHL Archive</source>
    <transcript>﻿Flying Home at Christmas

Flying home at Christmas ... 0 cloudy memory
Unroll your private film, yield up your fleeting echoes,
Those quick snatches of childhood joy and misery ...
Now see suburbia slip by, Tudor-and-russet-brick,
While after mediocre mile; past modern pub and group of shops
Out to the mild and smokeless air ringing the Airport.
Then watch the sun of saddle afternoon quicksilver the wing-tip.
(A dirty scrap of newspaper eddies: yesterday’s muddled headline lie.)
And now we rise, soon viewing below a child’s toy set -
Row on row of irregular, red-roof-tiled villas,
Each desirable residence with its patch of faded green
Like a played-over and scratched, billiard-table top.

Look down! look down!
(The blase traveller merely lights a cigarette)
At the smole-wound haze of London town!
Mist drifts like cotton wool, condenses on the pane;
But high above the clouds we view  a foamy—coloured sea,
And look! - the horizon’s bloodshot, copper-red.
Then, feeding on present sights, old memories return,
Each jigsaw shape and colour to the eager traveller,
Who troubles like an excited child.
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    <type>Text</type>
    <updateddate>Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 19:17</updateddate>
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