The bleak bissextile
Snowflakes as confetti
Spreads in your honour
Lenten fare now that
Mardi Gras has come and gone.
Yet child of the leap-year
Elegant, enigmatic, pretty
Your sound composure has won through
Seized a February birthday
From the Lions jaws,
You could of course be born at midsummer, four months late
But no it would never do
Because uncommon you
Must have an uncommon date
However all around we shout hurrah
In spite of Lent
Enjoy your Lundi Gras!