Note: The story of our (failed) Lughnasadh celebrations, told in the world's least literary sonnet. Hey, at least we tried.

Hey, at least we tried
by Myriad

We had a plan, but then it kind of died
(To tell the truth, the plan was very loose,
But though spontaneous actions are our pride,
When this unplanned, our brains do turn to juice).
And so we lay here, slain by summer’s heat,
Barely attempting reason or worship,
And feed each other chocolate to eat.
(We may be failures, but we have friendship).
Our brain power is gone and flown away
But still our sense of humor and our love
Remain; and thus to one another we do say
“As here below, so they do laugh above.”
And so, though we no obsequies contrived,
The gods know we give thanks to be alive(d).