THE IDES OF MARCH: A TIME TO FEAR

The Ides Of March is a time to fear,
The warming weather skunks my beer,
The softening of the swampy land,
Prepares great traps of quickened sand,

I do not embrace the Ides as dear,
They come each month year after year,
And, on the Ides I am a sleeper,
Thus, I avoid dear Caesar's reaper.