‘This is Mister Blake, my dear, br he sees visions..’ br br and he looked down at me, this man br who saw, what did that mean, br saw visions? His eyes were just so blue, br so blue, that they were limitless br and I flew up and into them br like a sky and wings br br and the voices sang forever br as if there were no repetition br and angels with blue eyes br looked at me out of everywhere br seeing every thing br br and Mister Blake the poet raised his hat to me, br smiled the gift of always, br and walked on his way br down the Strand br as if one and all things br had never parted company.