Sort of apropos National Poetry Month, and more apropos other things.

[jennaria]

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
a medley of extemporanea,
and love is a thing that can never go wrong --
and I am Marie of Romania.

-- Dorothy Parker

I spent all of Tuesday with the last three lines of that floating around in my head, and could not for the life of me remember the first, beyond 'life is a something de something of song.' Came up with several alternatives, too, none of which were correct.