My day is a day to be reckoned with my Sir!
I am down back to zero going again you see.
I carry a silver stick just for you not for me.
Do know I roll in a blend of pure magic I stir.
Like my soup you are and a cat I shall purr.
My summer is magic my winter cues as be.
I am busy you see to fly in and out like thee.
But in between this world is a cross to incur.
And at the end of this world is even a bigger cross,
Sharp as a whistle seemingly to be at a great loss!
® Registered: Ann Rich 2009