I visited the village of Deia on Majorca's spectacular west coast. The poet Robert Graves lived here for many years, and is buried in the small cemetery beside the church at the top of a hill - with the sea in the distance on one side and towering mountains on the other. There was a withered laurel crown and a sprig of faded flowers lying on the gravestone. I don't know if this was entirely appropriate. The laurel crown is sacred to Apollo, and Graves was more of a follower of Dionysus, but he was a poet after all. In my opinion he was an even better prose writer, and if you haven't read 'Goodbye To All That' or 'I Claudius' or his translation of 'The Golden Ass' by Apuleius I can recommend them.

"Though philosophers like to define poetry as irrational fancy, for us it is a practical, humorous, reasonable way of being ourselves."
Robert Graves