Sitting under the pecan tree
Relaxing in the shade
The breeze she came and played with me
Cavorting through the glade
Until the ants from firetown
Marched up my legs post haste
And made it to my midsection
To bite upon my waist!
Jump I did and slap myself
For what else can you do
When colonies of fireants
Are taking over you?

I caught myself a Leprechaun!
It took two and seven years
More with wit than with brawn
and a variety of beers.
He is a little son-of-a-gun.
Fast on his feet is he.
He is a little wild one.
But not w-i-l-y as me
Now three wishes I do get
but need them I do not.
For anything I'd ever want
Is right here in this spot

I awoke to a dull thud upon my face. The hand of your left arm haplessly flung as you slept. The thud must have alerted you as well because I heard you catch your breath and hold it while quickly turning to see what was amiss. And as you comprehended you let out a very soft "Oh!" and then quietly declared with the absolute wonderment and surprise of a child come Christmas morning "A Human Being!" and promptly went back to sleep.

I was sent on the most urgent mission to rescue the tea!

It was the most dire of situations. The package of tea, having finally arrived after a very long journey from overseas, sat defenseless on the porch. It rested peacefully, waiting for the eager owner to run forth with open arms, tears streaming, and proclaiming such holy gratitude that all of the church doves in all of the world flutter in to flight the moment her heart rings like a bell at seeing said package.

And as it rested peacefully the most ominous form loomed on the horizon. A sight more terrifying than babies eating pickles and bears with no hair. The darkest, most heavies, most deep blue clouds were building ever bigger, and coming ever closer. So pregnant with rain that at any moment that saddest shade of blue was going to color the very town the package was waiting in and color the heart of the owner, that very same shade, unless I could possibly make it in time.

The story of the mission itself and the actual said rescue of the tea is entirely another story which just so happens to be titled "I was somewhere else, but I wasn't, but I was" which is part of the continuing chronicles: The Misguided Adventure of Stumblebum Fumbletongue. Out on sale next yesterday.

You are my time for myself

There once was a girl named Sally
Who liked to dilly-dally
On the bed she did stay
All night and all day
Instead of cleaning the galley

Dreaming of days long gone
When witches would ride upon
Her family and friends
Through the wends and the bends
In between dusk and dawn

I can't
get enough
of the art
that you are