That I’m perplexed is certainly not new;
I always want to ascertain a view.
This latest seems to tell me more and more
That I must go and find the nearest shore.
It is the gulls that fly there I must see
And watch, the ones that live there by the sea.
Somehow they are susceptible, I guess;
Or easily misguided, nothing less.
I never thought so of them in that way,
Could they have changed so much to make that play?
Our words in English are most often geared
As take-offs of a word from which its steered.
That’s why all this has great import to me;
My friends have called me gullible, you see.
© Richard Williams