The Lakewood Key
‘Twas the week before St. Patrick’s day when all through the flock, Rotarians were stirring with dreams of shamrock.
The conch was hung by the podium with care, with hopes that Mayor Whalen soon would be there.
The Rotarians were nestled all snug in their places, while visions of green beer gleamed on their faces.
And Dolly in her heels and me in my chair had just settled in for a conch’s shrill blare.
When up near the podium, there arose such a blast, I worried “did that come from Jason’s…”
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IMPORTANT NEWS BULLETIN: We interrupt this butchered holiday classic with an important Rotary update! Please stand by for an assuredly incomplete rundown on what happened at today’s meeting.
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