050619

There's Such A Thing As Just Too Much

So this is why my heartfelt pen is dry

These holidays in flood demand a verse

There's one for each and each is getting worse

Today it's pudding made with grated leeks

Next Wednesday we salute the buttercup

On slug day morn you may not once ask why

From mute day dawn to dusk no one can speak

Concision day will end so ver abrup

In quick succession days for anything

And nothing pass with light and eldritch sound

Parades, balloons, and gimcrack toys galore

Tindalos Day! The sharpness of the Hounds

A holiday because all birds have wings

A day of thanks there aren't any more