I see a waterfall of smiles,
coming down “steep hill”,
to see many a wish; and many wiles,
become a social pill.
Let the “imps” become my friends,
so, this solo ginger can grin,
on what pleasure? That depends,
on whether; virtue or “sin!”
But; let this day be jolly,
as this weather is a sign,
to not repeat our folly,
thus, let’s paint; a scene sublime.