Coming back home, all a bit sweaty from the fencing class, feeling a bit glum after a rotten day at the office but cheered enormously by a good chat with a friend. Then, marvellously, Poems on the Underground caps the evening.
Now stop. Pause a moment, then read on. Because this is simple and lovely.
The Man With the Blue Guitar
The man bent over his guitar,
A shearsman of sorts. The day was green.
They said, "You have a blue guitar,
You do not play things as they are."
The man replied, "Things as they are
Are changed upon the blue guitar."
And they said then, "But play, you must,
A tune beyond us, yet ourselves,
A tune upon the blue guitar
Of things exactly as they are."
Take ten points, Wallace Stevens. This is an extract - the full poem can be found at this bit of internet.