Roses are red, violets are green, something something, something spleen?
Obviously I have trouble with the romantic poetry thing. Maybe this limerick, from before I became senile:
A young lad named Robert Marchand
Had yet a fair maiden to land
With fervour he gushes
"A bird in the bush is
worth far more than one in the hand."
Happy VD.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
And so are you,
thanks!!!
Heh ... I'll let someone else explain the double-entendres in the limerick :).


Pdela, this is why there are different levels of suffering.