► O, fair thou seest thyself ensconced upon a humble bench, thy visage turned towards the bustling thoroughfare 'twixt twain streets, wherein the titles of british monarchs of yore do resound. To thine left doth stand a shop of liquor, a den of inebriation; whilst to thine right, a sacred edifice doth rise, a house of worship.
► across the street, in an open field doth lie alight
a mailbox, in its midst, a curious sight
a man quite small, six inches tall emergeth
in bathrobe and slippers, with haste, he convergeth
whose fingers doth grasp the printed page
he stretcheth, yawneth, doth turn his back upon the stage
while both floateth in tandem's gentle stream, abreast
retreat within, the postmaster's minion taketh his rest
► and lo, i find myself beset by woe and wonder. forsooth, what land doth lie 'neath my feet? nay, nay, i know not what thing a country doth signify. and what, pray tell, are these monarchs that giveth their name to streets? and what, oh wondrous phenomenon, is this mailbox, wherein a tiny postman maketh his abode? what dost thou mean by those words, a shop of liquor?
► hark, what sorcery is this? I am beset with visions of yesteryear as if the fates, in mischief, would conjure forth a fleeting recollection; from whence it cometh, I know not. methinks 'tis thus already come to pass.
