Betjeman's was always a retro style and so his old-fashioned stanzas are a deliberate part of his design rather than an indication that his poetry belongs to a bygone age.
Hipsters and gurus of poetic fashion were always wary of the apparently cranky old duffer but I'm not sure whether there is much difference between the anachronism of writing in some parody of past forms and the similar claim of being at the cutting edge of poetic practice as if showing the way into some foreseen future.
Looking through the famous Collected, it nearly changed my mind about an obvious selection of six but in the end probably didn't.
Indoor Games Near Newbury was a favourite once and retains its inter-war, privileged charm although Myfanwy is staying as young and lovely as it ever was, too. I think I quoted these lines about 32 years ago in a review and so I'll not desert them now,
Golden the light on the locks of Myfanwy,
Golden the light on the book on her knee,
Finger-marked pages of Rackham's Hans Andersen,
Time for the children to come down to tea.
Betjeman's musical collaborations with Jim Parker were an unusual outlet, one of the highlights being the version of A Shropshire Lad and the Midlands accent essayed on it.
The encroaching world of sales reps and suburbia was lampooned to fine comic effect in Executive and the more discursive Beside the Sea has it moments of both bracing fresh air and fun and social satire.
And while I'd love to leave it out, you can't really can you, and so A Subaltern's Love Song completes the half dozen.
Of course one can see why self-conscious aesthetes with all their modish considerations of style and what is currently proper will always want to put plenty of distance between themselves and a taste for Betjeman but everyone can have a day off and enjoy themselves from time to time and it might just do you some good.
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