Wrapped in my gown of self-regard sublime
I heard your voice arrive from outer space.
I listened, doubtful if I had the time;
Later, became aware of form and face,
Then of a being far from nebulous,
Wide-eyed for the great world, flushed cheeks a-glow.
Soon it seemed natural to talk of ‘us’.
A peaceful spring of joy began to flow,
Making an island – though in all delights
Somewhere in your agenda was a plan
To set the vexed intruding world to rights.
I half subscribed. And so it all began.
The moral which this story clearly shows
Is: ‘Well, I… What I mean to say… Who knows?’