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Marco Buschini May 2019
Mrs. Suspicious,
Was doing the dishes,
And was worried
About the spider in the bath.
So she called on her husband,
Who sorts out problems
By the dozen, and yelled:

'**** the monster on the march!'

So he got out his shotgun,
And thought this will be much fun,
And he made his way slowly
As he laughed.
But the spider was gone,
As he searched on and on,
But had no such luck as time passed.

'So did you find the spider?'
'No dear he slipped by us'
The spider made hiding an art.
Mrs. Suspicious baked a cake,
And with delight they both ate,
Of which the spider was a part.
Marco Buschini May 2017
I do solemnly swear,
That forever more,
I shall live in a world
All on my own.
A world that consists of
Pure pleasure,
And unequivocal harmony.
That will last forever,
And a Sunday.
And so from this day forth,
I shall exude the richness
Of the heavens,
In ways that are applicable to life
In the most profound way imaginable.
Which will inevitably,
Echo forever more
In the laughing sounds
Of matrimony.
Blessed my velvet tongue
For I speak the weight of gold,
And sing like an angel,
Whispering enchanting dreams,
And dancing on clouds.

— The End —