Happy New Year from Balham...gateway to the South
" And so the long night draws on. The last stragglers make their way home and the lights go out one by one as dawn approaches and the bell of Saint Quills' Parish Church tolls ten o'clock. Balham sleeps. And so we say farewell to this historic borough, with many pleasant memories -- and the words of C. Quills Smith, Balham's own bard, burning in our ears...
Broad-bosomed, bold, becalmed, benign
Lies Balham, four-square on the Northern Line.
Matched by no marvel save in Eastern scene
A rose-red city, half as Golders Green
By country churchyard, ferny fen and mere
What Quills mute inglorious lies buried here?
Oh stands the church clock at ten to three?
And is there honey still for tea?
"
RIP Peter Sellers
