talk - Популярные cтихи, рассказы и фанфики

Half-Past-Six and I were
In a very grown-up way;
We had got so tired with
That we did not want to play

Tobacco smoke drifts up to the dim ceiling From half a dozen pipes and cigarettes,
Curling in endless shapes, in blue rings wheeling,
As formless as our talk
Phil, drawling, bets Cornell will win the relay in a walk,