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.
