He was sitting on a seat upon the esplanade,
Scribbling in a daydream, not at all on guard.
A passer-by approached him, attractive woman dressed in brown, And asked very politely what he was writing down.
“Are you observing sea-life - fish and birds?’ she asked.
He didn’t want to own to writing verse as in the sun he basked. “That must be a lovely pastime – or is it your profession
To sit observing sea-life?” He stuck with her impression.
But fish were nil, and sea-gulls scant. How to observe the sea-life? Then he had a bright idea, for seaweed was floating rife.
Deceptively he told her confidentially
“Soon with global warming we’ll harness crops from sea.
I’m studying the sea-weed,” he seriously explained.
“There are hundreds of varieties that haven’t yet been named.” (That last was an after-thought because she might just ask
The names of some varieties. He wasn’t equal to the task.)
“Marine biologist,” she gasped,” How very droll
That you don’t know who you’ll encounter when you’re out taking a stroll. I really thought it might have been a shopping list that you were scribbling. When I asked if you were watching fish I was actually kidding.” He frowned and told her thoughtfully “Well, it’s a sort of shopping list. One day you’ll purchase sea-weed from supermarkets, just like this. I’m studying beach varieties. They’re easier to farm,
Cost less to produce.” He pulled her leg without a qualm.
“How extremely interesting,” remarked the spunky dame.
“I’m a marine biologist. Might I know your name?”
“Professor Hibbet from U.Q.,” he said without a blink,
Adding, stretching out his hand, “Boy, I could use a drink.
You’re obviously at leisure, and I’ve seen all I need to see.
I was about to break for lunch. Would you accompany me?
Would you mind, though, very much, if we both refrain
During this encounter from discourse of matters maritime?”
“Don’t panic, Mr. Hibbet. It would also blow my cover.
I’m really a reporter from the local paper.
I saw you, Mr. Hibbet, last night at the Writers’ Meet.
I thought I’d find you here today at your favourite retreat
Sitting observing sea-weed in your accustomed spot.
You might be a marine biologist, but I like your verse a lot.
I came looking for you for an interview.
I thought an interesting story would be the natural you.
I’ve uncovered a good story. I think I’ll run with it.
It’s amusing and refreshing, “Alias Professor Hibbet.”
“That’s great,” said the poet, “but it’s true, I think,
That you still need my permission. How about that drink?”
“You’re wrong, Professor Hibbet, and I’m married, anyway.