You have to live with things for a long time
to know if they’re any good. Like letting wine
age, I suppose. Or as Dr Johnson said

about books – a classic is simply what’s read
by a great many people over a great many years.
Well, we’ve made it thus far, so much longer than

either managed with anyone else, in our lost youth.
If opened, can the reader put us down?
If poured out in deep glasses, do we have

bouquet and body? Does the connoisseur
savour us slowly, letting our happiness
enchant his taste buds – before he spits it out?

Tom Vaughan

If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Tom Vaughan  would be pleased to hear them.