Day Forty

The last......night. Ever.

A summary, of the dressness:

There was a blonde lass, named Jess

Who decided to wear a black dress

She belted, she booted

She tucked and uprooted

And proved that more really is less.

She tackled the issues

Of bike riding (and its misuse)

Of crashing and flying

down the hill and hence buying

introductions to jocks with their pitying tissues.

To live bands, performers,

to St Paddy's and the Stormers

the dress danced and it sang

it screamed war-cries and ran

past drunkards and celebrities and all their adorers.

Now it is torn, it is singed, it is bust

And repairs they need doing, it's a serious must

So that the dresses can be sold or donated maybe

To help those without clothes, to accept graciously

The dress about which we have over 40 days fussed.

So fare thee well, adieu, God bless

And just before closing allow me to confess

That wearing this dress has changed my style complete

And a new person, a new style, will my old self defeat

So prepare for a shocker, oh Cape Town oh yes!

And smile now that you will have, from the Little Black Lent Dress, a rest.

A farewell to LBLDness at Enrico's on Keurbooms beach.

  The dress itself.

 All of us, in black dresses, supporting the last night of dressness.

 Keurbooms beach.

Lastly....to leave you with a great feeling:

What better mood to leave you in than from Streetlight Manifesto's "Forty Days"?!

Thank you....and goodbye.