Here ‘fore me, plinth of polish
For the tree to rest on wood
In flat sheets with fastened thoughts
Set forth as marching words.
Heralded tonight and often
They are by crest announced.
We cluster! And applaud.
It is a shared experience.
Now, to – I must address:
From nothing written
and only have
of a fatted dream now fit for parade
with open palms and empty hands
‘fore that company and polished staff
all suited in investiture
I on tip-toe said,
I have nothing written here.
I speak only from my heart.
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