In a very far corner of the library, looking at me under her eyebrows

Her computer shining directly in my direction

Breathless with excitement, I skip my way over to the library door

Down the fitted carpet stairway and out onto the village green

The dew droplets, at their morning communion

Gathered under my feet, restlessly

Moistened by my exterior motions

Each librarian at the window froze over

Their spectacles with their hot breath

A small bird hopped about in the distance and looked at me with wisdom

A curly wurly wrapper in its mouth, inscribing in a medieval font

"Greensleeves" by Henry VIII

A song I had written way back when but had been executed

For by my overappreciation of billowing sleeves

The dew drops of the lawn cascaded under me and

Started to lift me up through the low-lying leaves

And up through the clouds, the strata clouds that had

Been overcasting my life for years and years, and years

And years, and days and years, and days and years, and...

Up to the sky I flew, loop-de-loop over loop-de-loop

Roly-poly over roly-poly, star-jump after star-jump

I couldn't stop

My true calling had come to haunt me

Gymnastics

A gymnastic gymnast I'd become

And a strange tune came into my head

It went a little bit like this...