BEWARE THE IDEAS OF MARCH
Winter came
And winter went
Like the rock-hard fruitcake
Aunt Ethel sent.
When at long last dear Spring arrived,
Hope seemed sure to come alive.
Yes, life would be a glorious rhyme
With the coming of daylight saving time.
But there’s an unease in my gut
I just can’t shake,
Like I’m still digesting
That damned fruitcake.
Is an ill wind sucking my well-laid plan
Straight up into my ceiling fan?
Alas, in my future I cannot foresee
A triumphal arch being erected for me.
Beware the Ideas of March.
I’m on the couch watching sixty-four teams
Bursting with hope at their gym bag seams.
But all save one will exit March Madness
With gym bags full of sweat socks and sadness.
Beware the Ideas of March.
The Boss of Rome
Chose to go it alone.
With a carefully crafted and epic plan,
He figured on ruling for a lengthy span.
But Julius Caesar
Was no people pleaser.
When he stuck it to the senate,
Boy, did they resent it.
Beware the Ideas of March.
(Image: Wikimedia Commons)
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