Today is a day of questions.
Have the fools yet left the house?
Have the fools come to a conclusion?
Have the fools decided?
Have the fools yet left the house?
In this world of sunshine and showers
Where grass is growing
And the magnolia is about to burst into bloom,
In this world of rolling traffic
And buses that stop
To let people on or off,
Or off or on,
In this world, why are there fools?
April is a foolish month.
Perhaps it is the month
When the flying pasta lord,
The monster of spaghetti ,
Was Born, or rather, extruded?
Perhaps it is the month
When little lambs leap
And play in sporting oblivion?
Perhaps it is the month
When the non-foolish ones
Will allow sense to surface
And demolish the house of fools?
Or perhaps it is not?
(c) 2ndwitch, 02/04/19
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