The Day After

And thus it was the First of May,

The birds arose,

And me with a stuffy nose,

Fear not, dear reader, this I propose:

I shall endeavor to write this day.

Yesterday’s custard became ice cream,

Goat milk, eggs, a little whisky,

Now a frozen delight, a little risque.

I’ll have a scoop for breakfast, this pixie

Shall endeavor to be frisky.

And in to work I go, eyes agleam.

A little post-napowrimo fun.

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