My Bday yesterday started early in the morn with a poem from Freda Underhill...

G stands for Gnu, whose weapons of attack
Are long, sharp, curling jokes, and a very strange quack.
To these he adds a name so short and strong,
That even wordy mudcatters pronounce it wrong.
How often on a dim and soggy eve
The song soaked mudcatters ardently believe,
'Come, let us sing with ______' Then no more is heard
but sounds of strong men struggling with a word;
Meanwhile the distant Gnu with patient eyes
Oberserves his music stand and sighs...
Happy Birthday Gnu
from way Down under
don't drink too much
or you may chunder

with sincere apologies to Hilaire Belloc

Thanks, Freda!

It continued from there and it continues today with the posts above. Thanks all. Warms my heart.