The Matchmaker’s Mirth
There once was a man with a match,
Who dreamed he could set fire to scratch;
He flicked with delight,
In the glow of the night,
Then ignited his coat — what a catch!
With sparks flying high in the air,
He laughed at the curious stare;
“My wardrobe’s on fire!
What a laugh and a choir!
A bold fashion statement, I swear!”
So off he danced under the moon,
His jacket ablaze like a tune;
With each wobbly jig,
“Can you dance too?” he’d dig—
“Just don’t try this at home anytime soon!”
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 