Short and sweet they say
To read it there’s no pay
A time to lay and a time to pray
Oh! To see the beautiful bay
Is there leisure anyway?
Jan, Feb, March, April, May
Each Month can run like a day
While the sun shines, make hay
Be the proverb put the other way
To make the rhyme to stay
On the move, not to slay
You will feel to tell nay
As the length of the poem lay
Before you so do say
I end this unbroken pot of clay
No comments:
Post a Comment