You used to arrive in only twos,
Now you’re ones, I’ve gotten the blues,
Black and white your smart tuxedo,
Yet never five have arrived alive,
As for six, I’ll pick up sticks,
I’ll grudgingly admit you arrive thrice twice,
Pleased us all just a bit,
When you landed once with four,
We could not wish for any more.
By Ruairí de Barra.
Leave a Reply