I had a dream this night
That I was at a conference
Of eminent men who could
Pontificate on any learned topic.
I had been quite pleasantly
But bewilderedly allowing
All the learned lectures
All the scholarly discourse,
To flow over me as I lingered
On a handsome college campus
In a handsome college hall,
Somewhere in the western world
Where everyone spoke English.
A worried, young Norwegian don,
Had organized the event,
And now knew that he must choose
A brilliant rapporteur who would
Sum up the many topics which
For several days had been
So subtly pondered.
He was then confronted
By a lady (of great eminence)
Who told him to her general satisfaction,
She had resolved already every subject
That had been discussed. But
She would attend the final meeting
To check how someone else
Would sum up all the tricky problems,
Unravel nodes so deeply contemplated.
My anxious Scandinavian, however,
Had looked around to find some genius
To perform this final duty. He had inquired
Among the community of scholars
To nominate one among them for this task..
Who I asked did they suggest?.
You, he said, so I, a mite disturbed,
Asked when I should perform
This doughty task. Tomorrow?
Not much time, said I, I will,
I think, go into hibernation
And turn the matter over.
So I stumbled to my allocated room
Meeting on my way two obstacles
Some steps which proved quite vertical
And grazed my shins, then faced a door,
An imposing academic door,
Barred by a weed-covered wiry fence
Which I must climb to reach my room
And meditate the matters
I had so idly listened into.
I had forgotten quite to ask
How long I had to speak.
Perhaps an hour? Then I woke
And rising from my bed
Sought pen and paper thinking
The only way to face this learned crowd
Would be to recount in chatty verse
My disgraceful inattention,
And complete incompetence
To justify my unexpected honour.
I had nothing else to offer.
©Terry Hodgson2020
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