They signed the reform on a grey Brussels spring day in 2026.
Retired the months that limped, stretched, or overstayed their welcome —
Twelve equal months now, thirty days apiece, neat as a train timetable.
And your birthday always falls on the same day of the week.
Long before Rome gave us its awkward, uneven months,
Twelve was already measuring moons, seasons, trade, and time.
The dozen kept returning because twelve divides so easily —
We Earthlings didn\'t invent the idea; we simply remembered it.
Dozenal means counting by twelve instead of ten:
A number neatly divided by two, three, four, and six.
Ten suits our fingers; twelve rather suits the universe —
And perhaps, our fingers have been running the calendar for too long.
No February starved, no August bloated with borrowed days.
Every month now stands exactly as tall as every other —
No more “Thirty days hath…” rhymes to remember the exceptions.
Just thirty steady steps, repeated twelve times a year.
Only four days of work now, a short, sensible working week.
Then Saturday and Sunday spill out like a held breath —
Two whole days with nothing automatically owed to anyone,
A weekend now enjoyed without the stress of an overworked week.
At year\'s end, five festival holidays float free for all to enjoy —
Christmas first, out of December, then Boxing Day\'s quiet exhale.
Holiday Three, Holiday Four, with a Fifth extra holiday in leap years,
Before New Year\'s Eve closes the old year, and opens the next.
At first we\'ll complain that the calendar looks so horribly wrong,
Look for old dates and ask what happened to October 31.
By March—or whatever, we\'re eventually persuaded to call it OK —
We\'ll wonder why thirty-one ever seemed like a sensible number anyway.
No more memorizing knuckles, no miserable little February,
No more reciting that truly ancient rhyme: “Thirty Days Hath…” Oh my! —
Just twelve equal months, six-day weeks, and four working days.
With five—or six—spare days gathered at the year\'s end for everyone to enjoy.
So, Hear Ye All! The great European calendar revolution begins:
Paying homage to canny twelve—the Dozen of the Universe!
Rome had two thousand years to straighten the calendar out.
Brussels finally fixed it — after twelve committee meetings.