This universe of quantum doubt, so prone to the bizarre,
Where oddity from time to time affects what one beholds,
Was host to washing on a line, with flapping handkerchief,
Wherein an elemental thought popped up amid the folds.
And speculating from its peg, upon a gaining breeze,
Along with socks and underpants and other laundered gear,
It wondered what the view was like from up amongst the clouds,
When all at once the wind swept it into the atmosphere.
The hanky flew so very high and marvelled at the sight,
Of hilly fields, assorted trees and rivers passing by.
It revelled with a friendly lark, who taught it how to dance,
And joined in with its summer song of love up in the sky.
The other stuff upon the line, quite keen to have some fun,
Strained one and all against their pegs so they might get to go
And fly and jig and swoop and laugh up with their happy friend,
Away from all sobriety hard tethered down below.
This universe of quantum doubt, quite prone to the bizarre,
Where strange event in random dream more properly belongs,
Was host to laundry in the air, cavorting with the birds,
With socks and pants and handkerchief all singing summer songs.
Copyright © 2013 Jonathan Humble