But as much as they tried
They could not refute nor shake its premise.
And one by one they came around
And spent hours playfully shooting
Arguments at one another
Until they accepted that his fantasy
Could invade, even occupy their reality.
Anne made them a breakfast feast.
And then although bone-weary
Bleary-eyed and hung-over
They burst through the rackety door
Ready for the day's work
With a fresh, near-breathless vigor.
And they sang with it all the day long.
Something finally had begun
To work for them.
They would falter, they knew
But their knowledge would revive them
Keep them going.