Friday, March 31, 2006
The Pot Boy Gets the Boot
The taxes are done!
Ring, ye dratted bells! The witch is dead!
Angels are whirling the crystal shells of the spheres--
The dead may rise shortly, and
the meek play baseball in the village square,
And the Glimmerglass Opera hover over Doubleday Field--
The ghost of Fenimore Cooper is dancing
on the pinnacle of Christ Church.
The Pot Boy has been booted in the rear
—I’d fire him, but he’s awfully keen on the scrubbing—
Not to mention good-looking and entertainingly vain.
The snow has melted early and engendered is the fleur!
(Yes, I am addicted to Geoffrey Chaucer’s House of Fame,
as are Attorney Clendon and the scullery maids and the Pot Boy.
Probably why he wants to be an Advice Columnist.)
Favorite overheard response of the week—
Leading question by an adult: “Why were 352
(a bit swollen, that number, I hear)
people marching down Main St. the other day?”
My little N: “Because of the Crayon Carnival.”
Regarding the date--
Okay, so it’s not Friday yet. It will be…
And I’ll be too busy frolicking to post. So there!
Pot Boy questions--
He might come back for another round, maybe, mayhap...
If you have a doubt, a wonder, a niggling small question,
drop it by the March 25th post.
This royalty free picture was taken by Edwin P
of the Netherlands—Noordwijk.