Winter's Pie

Kansas Blackbird

Sing a Song of Sixpence
By Mother Goose

Sing a song of sixpence, 
A pocket full of rye, 
Four and twenty blackbirds 
Baked in a pie. 
When the pie was opened 
The birds began to sing— 
Wasn't that a dainty dish 
To set before the king? 
The king was in the counting-house 
Counting out his money, The queen was in the parlor 
Eating bread and honey, 
The maid was in the garden 
Hanging out the clothes. 
Along came a blackbird 
And snipped off her nose.

Non-sequitur

Childhood is a time when a goose could write rhymes and it would all make sense.

So where is the dog, where is the dish, Where is the star with which to make a wish?

I had a dream about non-sequiturs. I was a cow, you were the moon, my little dog laughed, and the dish ran away with the spoon.

And somehow it all made poetic dianoetic sense.

Consider present tense.

I have a plan, I am a cow, might I jump over the moon and would my little dog laugh to see such a sight, let the dish run away with the spoon.

Doesn’t follow does it?