sherwindle around the campfire
and tell tale toothless timmy tucker
a few good words to remember, my faith.

we have the wine for hocus pocus
greenery for design
and a dragon full of candy
for every triangle and square in the room.

we keep the eggnogs for ovals.

this is the time of the season
when myth becomes fantastical,
and sparks line the connected dots
to keep us within the boundaries of a kettle fire log house.

myrth is a drug
for the weak at heart.
Age is the elixer that
brings out the baker in all of us.

Poor Timmy Tucker once tried to bake,
and now he can barely say "Kwanzah" as a two syllable word.

12/02/2006

Author's Note: the second line of the poem is incredibly hard to say out loud.

Posted on 12/02/2006
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