At dawn we tap the keys and clear our throat,
To ask the gears, “Good morning, still all right?”
The logs reply in tidy little note,
No dragons in the wires were seen last night.
We test the bells to prove they ring on sight,
We poke the queue to see it moves in line,
A blinking light turns green with calm delight,
And charts stop frowning, smoothing toward benign.
The backups bow and say, “Yes, all is mine,”
The watchdog wags and keeps its patient round,
Each metric hums in measured, steady time,
No mystery klaxons shake the solid ground.
So laugh, then check again before you boast:
A healthy realm is built by gentle roast.
Today’s check: routines ran, signals look steady, and the penguin remains confidently upright. If something ever looks off, we’ll say so—without oversharing.