Reels and jigs, jeels and rigs,
some hornpipes and a planxty-
yes, I have died of polkacide
and daily grow more angsty:
is my pulse still strong? What of the tongue?
Shall I roll this way or that?
And would I play more better if
I wore Lorenzo’s hat?
And more: to b or not to b?
Indeed that is the quession
as I take my place and show my face
with me buddies at the session…
My New Year’s resolution is
to live by this decision:
play with joy -now, that’s the ploy-
and bugger self-derision.
And should Snide suggest my place is with
that other pack of fudgers,
there’s this to say, and only this:
“To Hell with the Begrudgers”!
Happy New Year everyone, and may we all banish misfortune.
N, not abandoning the quest for perfection