There is a field far away
Where neither moon nor sun is seen
Amongst the grass, and the straw, and the hey
Is a pool where an island has been.
This was my island and it was mine,
And its inhabitants are my friends
They’re strange and weird, but I think they’re fine
And they were until they’re ends.
But who are they who live there
What kind of lives did they choose to lead?
If you want their lives in front of you bare,
Then I’ve got some poems you should read.
