Two Hundred and Seventy Days

TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY DAYS

The meaning of numbers is a curious matter,
consider it little lest you become mad as a hatter,
or you enjoy ‘figures’ which business rather flatters,
like the men in the banks getting fatter and fatter.

But perhaps oddest of all the number that haunts me,
that traipsed into my life and tipped it’s hat jauntily,
with a glimmer of a riddle that it loves to flaunt t’me
OH! this ghost number has left me quite gaunt you see!

It started with squirrels crossing the road,
Thirty-six little legs as they scampered to-and-fro
away from the hedges with red berries grow
to the branches of bays and the hollow hedgerows.

This was incident that sparked it all off,
and was followed by a smattering of pale little moths,
a family of ducks, cats getting trapped in my loft,
then rain for two days and a week leaving me with a cough,

books on the shelf, loaves of bread in the shop,
the list goes on and I just wish it would stop.
Each day I wake up on ‘o’clock on the dot
glance at my watch and think as I flop:

If only just once, it might go down to eight,
or go up to ten, or eleven – any digit would be great,
something I didn’t notice or make me gain weight,
it’d be priceless not to be followed by this numeral fate!

If you haven’t guessed then you’re luckier than me,
I know that it’s lower than ten and divides into three,
and I’m counting down days from two-hundred and seventy
Because in only nine months I’m having a baby.

The meaning of numbers is curious to know
why I’m being followed each day is now obviously so,
and yes I’m as scared as the squirrels in the road,
but at least my belly has yet to grow!

40 lines of writerscramp party time