Poem of Merriment

A poem. Of mewliment! By Giliath Hawdaw.

Walking home from the days toil,

thwough the towns twodden soiw.

Come up to the doors and push aside,

youl twoubres lith a smiwe lide.

Call the girls, call the men

gathew them aww so we can then,

show this town that fun can vary,

eat, dlink, and wet's be mewwy.

Grab a mug with a sounding cry,

waise it, waise it to the sky.

Tonight we shall drink our fill,

tonight we shaww be mewwy stiww.