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….’

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