As I was going to…
St. Ive,
to see a man whose name was Steve –
Remember him?
Just like me, rather dim
and in a rhyme –
I hadn’t seen him
for quite some time.
Steve was here
Steve was there
It seems that Steve was everywhere
I followed signs
that bore his name,
And missed.
It seems, that I have
a terrible aim.
“Steve!” I did shout
But Steve was out,
and I wasn’t even outside his house,
It seems that I was somewhere else
somewhere where Steve wasn’t,
which maybe comes as no surprise.
Graeme Sandford 