Chocolates,
consumed, make you fat;
Posies will wither: that's that.
The booze that you give'er
Will ruin her liver-
But sonnets: now that's where it's at.
Plus . . . a little music wouldn't hurt.
And now, you can get it all here, citizens: poetry, prose and a little night music. Maybe even a little day music. Ah, will wonders never cease? eBobb certainly hopes not.
