Five or six years ago, at about this time of year, I spent many fruitless hours trying to track down a poem. Google found it in 0.44 seconds:

Spring in the Bronx

De spring is sprung,
De grass is riz
I wonder where dem boidies is.

De little boids is on de wing--
But dat's absoid:
De little wing is on de boid.

                                anon

Enjoy what promises to be a fine and furry weekend.

Alan Paterson
ampers& limited
t: +44 (0)20 7379 5869
f: +44 (0)20 7379 5875
www.wherewordswork.com
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