A self-ordained professor’s tongue
Too serious to fool . . . . .
I dreamed I rode beneath the clouds
Above the rooftops of the town
And I rode fast and I rode long
Over forest, lake and lawn.
What I saw then, I’d not before
The chimneys cold, the open doors
A thousand voices, all in pain
Cried out “What once has been shall be again”
“We’ll now ignore the self-ordained
And look instead to God the king
The still,small voice, the word serene.”