Combing my hair last year, I found spiders,
A dalmatian, and eighty three rollers.
The die had been cast, the domino fell!
The dryer malfunctioned, dry went the well.
The Fiddler at the Inn was evicted,
He became a Hermit, bought a Brick Bed,
And used hairspray as his deodorant.
His luck began to improve when he found
A Ladybug. She moved in, paid him rent.
My luck changed too, because of a horseshoe.
I found it on the Internet—they sent
It to my Home, where I live with a crew
Of spiders, a dalmatian, but no phone.
The Heat is Gas, and love is all around.
Phringo's Blog 
The tempo of this nice poem is a Pab, a skip, and a windfall. There is still time for this year to unfold into a chapbook, a Brick Bed fluffed. ~Don FinUly