A Thursday Poem

by Danny B. Maness

It's Thursday, it's Thursday,

The animals call it Fursday,

Which makes a lot of sense to me,

And also to a clinging flea.

It's just one day 'till Friday,

A day held in esteem,

But Thursday's really MY day,

It's like come true a dream.

Good things hap on Thursday,

If hap is still a word,

The 14th century used it,

At least that's what I've heard.

What hap here, kind sir? Did you hap to find my purse? 

I love to sing on Thursday,

My vocal chords relax,

I sing acapella,

 I no longer play my axe.

Thurday's raise my spirits,

I don't need to drink no beer,

Is that a double negative,

No.