Join us to share and enjoy the writings of Rudyard Kipling


Do you recognise these lines? 

…It was a perfect white night, as they call it… The mosses curled deep and warm over his feet, the young grass had no cutting edge, and all the voices of the Jungle boomed like one deep harp-string touched by the moon – the Moon of New Talk, who splashed her light full on rock and pool, slipped it between trunk and creeper, and sifted it through a million leaves…

Tree motif