Memory is a sparkle on the jewel of life
My memories so thick you can cut then with a knife
But it's easier to cut pie
Though it goes straight to my thigh
And then put the blame on my wife.
(That one started out sensible and poetic and ended up silly. But that's okay. I hope. The rules used to be, that each person wrote one line, but some of us get too carried away.

) My start:
I wonder what Saturday will bring?