But other seasons are directed
By voters, pols and other fellows,
Pounding wood and squeezing bellows,
To tarry until properly elected.
A new day, like a river, came,
And though we'd prefer each one were tame
Each one arrives in its due course
And is tracked back to its likely source
To dam and damn and blame.
The best that we can do, I think,
Is pour ourselves a nice warm drink,
Build a fire to heat our feet,
Take a slice of something sweet,
And rest a bit, at home upon the brink.
BARREL, n. A fashion deplored for reflecting effort rather than ambition.