“You’ll never believe who I’ve seen!
The gem of the garden from here to lawn’s end—
in my eyes she’s truly a queen!
“Her trail of slime has a marvelous shine,
its stickiness has me enthralled!
And her accent’s adorable—Scottish, I think,
though I can’t understand her at all.”
“Do you think this is wise?” the other replied,
with antennae at skeptical tilt.
“I shouldn’t disparage cross-cultural marriage,
but I think you’d look odd in a kilt.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t so frown, could you hear my heart pound
like a passionate, snail-paced drum!
For her I would crawl through the salt flats of Utah—
But quiet now! Look—here she comes!”
Several minutes later… the Envoi:
“Ach! Dinnae ye fash yersel’, bonnie wee snail,
yer een havnae led ye astray,
fer we’ll doon tae the kirk an’ be marrit at once,
an’ I’ll stick tae ye all o’ me days.”
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