Henry’s Edmund Spenser’s Poetry Dispenser

One day I wrote her name upon the sand,
came a wave and washed it out to sea,
her name went tumbling

with the fishes and the sharks,
to far off islands and atolls,
to tiny Micronesians’ knees

and they, of course, could not understand,
they had no clue, not even clothes,
their minds wondered, pondered, yondered.

They’d never heard of Edmund Spenser,
they’d never heard such poetry of love,
but they wrote the name upon the sand,

came a wave and washed it out to sea,
her name went tumbling onto English sand,
and it was plain to see that someone loves Cecilia Ann.