One of those days: it’s zoomed, flown, zinged and was (and still will be) full of creativity, both paid and unpaid. I didn’t think Mondays were supposed to be like this. Here’s someone else’s lines for you to muse: meaningless, non-pedagogical, for its own sake:
There was an old woman tossed up in a basket
Seventeen times as high as the moon.
Where she was going, I couldn’t but ask her,
For in her hand she carried a broom.
‘Old woman, old woman, old woman,’ said I,
‘Where are you going to, up so high?’
‘To sweep the cobwebs off the sky.’
‘May I come with you?’
‘Aye, by and by….’
