It was surely well-meant, when my lover-boy sent
me a surfeit of creatures with wings,
but I felt my love dwindle (I’d hoped for a Kindle),
though I welcomed the five golden rings.
There were geese and swans laying and swimming and straying,
excreting all over my garden;
with milking and dancing, and leaping lords prancing,
my heart was beginning to harden.
My ears were attacked by a piping band, backed
by twelve drummers who drummed up a rhumba.
When we reached day thirteen, I was certain I’d seen
something wicked, contained in the number.
He gave me a coven, a gaggle of sloven-
ly hags from the labyrinths of hell,
and I told him “We’re finished, my love has diminished,
I’m finally free from your spell.”