In Lahaina's heart there doth rages a fire,
By cruel blaze, many souls their lives did tire,
With monk's tears and aloof, I do quoth,
To extinguish, call upon Saint Arnold, the patron of ale and broth.
Oh, San Francisco, once jewel of the coast,
Why doth thee suffer, and wilt like a ghost?
Raise thy chalice and pray for divine help,
Lest thou tumble further into disorder's kelp.
In the sacred bond of wedlock we find,
Chores blend, like wine and water, in kind,
A CFO, a COO, these roles we charter,
To keep the peace and avoid marital barter.
