An elderly gentleman, headed on foot one day last year,
appeared lost to the world at our gate, guhdear!
He drew from the pocket of his neatly pressed shirt which was light, ink blot blue
ah terribly crumpled paper that definitely was not new.
Some body whom he said he did feed
he had write on it a number which he cud not read.
Eye took IttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttT,
Tie Cook FittttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttT,
and i learned dat for sometime now he was expected
but dat he had strongly rejected
an offer from Hoffa to bring him over fron Enclover
to visit with an old friend
who though being on the mend
was feeling quite dejecteeeeed.
i took their direction
and after some reflection
offered to take him through the maze,
for which he was full of praiseeeeeee.
And off we were from Ealing Park,
where the dogs did not all just bark.
Having gotten off the bus at the wrong stop
he was way off by a loooooooooooong hop,
and all the way there he told me of his times at the top.
He spoke of his long ago wish for work on sea
which had, untold years earlier, led him to ah Captaincy.
Small Sails, as he was known den
to all who wuz his fren
was now, as elders often are,
sitting rite deh in my car,
a Teller of Tales Taller than Treeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees.
And into his past he dug deep deeep
past all the nights of little sleeeeeeep
to a time when play was all,
and with no dificulty did recall
the fishing boats laden tallllllll
which he brough safely back from all the seven seas.
i had taken with me my camera in case
and as he turned to mi his face
got it out and took a few of his smile
but after a while he protested - stop my chile!
(see the attached file)
And said with a terribly twisted mout
I doan want yuh fuh draw my spirit out.