This from my ex-mother-in-law written to her in the 1930's by a suiter.
It was a dark + stormy night,
+ the moon was shining bright, + the flowers they were drooping in the mud,

Let me try that again. We are under a heavy rainstorm + everything seems to be SNAPPU.

Randy, lay off the vodka!!!! :-)

Let's move this to the Political Forum and confuse everyone.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Most poems rhyme,
But this one don’t.

It was a dark + stormy night,
And the moon was shining bright,
And the flowers they were drooping in the mud,
When the Doctors they decided, that to save my darling boy, they must stop the circulation of his blood,
Well they dipped his little head,
In a pot of boiling lead, then laid him down to rest,
But the robbers came that night, + they came without a light + stole the mustard plaster from his chest,
Now no more little brat,
To tease the pussy cat,
No more little teeth upon it's tail,
No more little nose,
Upon the red hot stove,
Cause my little Jimmy's gone + kicked the pail.

Well, I presume that suitor was rejected…

That was… awful.

What the hell are you smoking ?????

Roger

cr butler, Yes he was; thankfully.