In Hannafore
I’m in Hannafore.
“What for?” you ask.
To practice my semaphore,
whilst wearing my new pinafore,
that I’ve never worn before,
at least, not before dawn before.
Then I’m off to Looe.
“What there to do?” you ask.
To do what a man just has to do;
he has to see a sea-going gull, or two,
or maybe a couple of thousand –
there are countless, to be sure;
and I’m sure I counted seventeen,
and there were many, many more.
Later, I went back to Hannafore,
to practice my semaphore,
whilst still wearing my new pinafore,
as I had so recently done before.
