She came here to play In the Toyland
With glistening stones and cars

The house she wants is bigger than mine
And my wallets not large enough too

I stand at the gates to this wonderland
With entrance denied to me , woohoo

I wasn't blessed with a bank account
But atleast I have a mind fit for two.

in land of fantasy so very far away
a place were all the toys would come out to play
they would play together happy as can be
in this land so faraway full of fantasy

there was a teddy bear he wore a nice bright suit
and a spotted tie that made him look so cute
a little marching soldier drumming to a beat
and a little panda who was very sweet

a funny little tortoise with a great big smile
a little chimpanzee and a crocodile
pretty little parrot colored red and blue
a singing little bird and a cockatoo

they all played together having lots of fun
in the land of fantasy underneath the sun
then when they got tired climbed in to there bed
getting lots of rest for the day ahead.

in land of fantasy so very far away
a place were all the toys would come out to play
they would play together happy as can be
in this land so faraway full of fantasy.


there was a teddy bear he wore a nice bright suit
and a spotted tie that made him look so cute
a little marching soldier drumming to a beat
and a little panda who was very sweet.


a funny little tortoise with a great big smile
a little chimpanzee and a crocodile
pretty little parrot colored red and blue
a singing little bird and a cockatoo.

they all played together having lots of fun
in the land of fantasy underneath the sun
then when they got tired climbed in to there bed
getting lots of rest for the day ahead.

There's a Poet who dreams of a Gateway to Heaven
Not some cold austere Gate bolted and closed in your face
As if to say "Clear off! You're not wanted here anymore"
But instead a lovely warm welcoming Gate  
A brightly colourful Gate with lots of bunting and ribbons on it
And a big banner over the top announcing
"Welcome Great Poet"

It'd be a bit...a bit like Noddy in Toyland
And there'd be all these pretty young girls with bowls in their hands
Spreading rose petals on the ground for me to walk upon
A beautiful path laid out before me, a carpet of sweet scenting loveliness
And there'd be other boys and girls there too strumming lutes and harps
Like beautiful critics... singing my praises
Inside the Gate it'd be like this wonderful Park
With lovely flowers and shrubs and trees
With marble fountains and statues and quiet flowing streams
With radiant kids and beautiful people and  lovely marquees like as if you were attending some wonderful party or banquet,

And then you'd hear a bustle in the hedgerow
But it's only a bunch of publishers vying with one another
Trying to get my signature on a multi million dollar contract
Suddenly ahead of me there'd be this wonderful magnificent throne
It'd be offered to me... offered to me as my true place... my true home
And then a man would come and he'd humbly bow and kneel before me
He'd be offering something to me....
Why! It's the Nobel Prize for Literature
I'd smile and say "Ah shucks guys sure I was only doin' a few rhymes... and a few stories".

The Night of the Christmas Bus
Holiday accented all decked out
People observed as it was moving about
Santa was aboard
** ** ** accord
Santa told a Christmas story of the Christmas Bus
The children were aboard being a plus
Children were all sitting in their reclining chairs
They listened carefully with care
The Christmas bus that journeyed to the North Pole
As Santa narrated, the wonder became behold
The bus arrived at Bus Toyland
All kinds of scale buses were there
Each had their own stories to share
All the scale buses were of all kinds
They all unique and genuine
Some had operating lights
Others made engine starting sounds
There were some that were remote controls that were found
The scale buses would capture a child’s delight
However, Santa has a bus story to tell tonight
There was a European bus sitting all alone
No momentum and not full blown
The European scale bus was considered as a misfit because of a weird design
Every bus should be in a child’s hand
This is the Christmas Bus Caravan
The other scale bus models were singing, “We are buses for every Boy and Girl, it will bring them joy to enjoy”
But that didn’t settle for the poor European scale bus
There was no fuss
Misfit is a European Scale bus that sits in a corner
All neglected
But that is about to change
The story relishes with a rearrange
Santa felt bad about the whole ordeal
A child’s heart is warmth being for real
Santa abruptly shouted, “Every bus deserves a chance being part of a child’s heart as the holiday season is about joy and love being the reason
Santa thought to himself, what a wonderful idea, and a misfit European bus no more
The misfit European scale bus was told his, and Santa and the other scale buses saw the Flashing headlights of approval
By the time Santa finished the story, the children had felt a sleep, and dreaming deep of buses to keep
Imagine Christmas morning when the children woke up
There would be cocoa filled in their cup
It’s the midnight hour, Santa is busy with the Elf’s packing all the toy buses for the night ride
Santa said Off Greyhound, Trailways, Coach USA and Academy and into wintry road
We have a schedule and must be on-time
As you know, Santa is genuine
Christmas cheer as Santa preservers
Buses travel during the night to touch a child’s heart
Dash away Dash away
Buses rolled into their getaway

It was a letter written by a little child to St. Nick
It had to be at the North Pole pretty quick
The little child felt a certain toy had to be the right pick
The child wished on a falling star
He hoped that his wish would extend really far
But let the story in detail unfold
Come on in and look behind the curtain of told
Little John stated, “ I want a toy train set”
I want it to be my own train set no one has ever seen
Santa reading little John’s letter felt he would do the next best thing, he would give little John a personal ride on a real train, and he would be the only passenger aboard to visit me in the North Pole
This will be more than a wish
Little John was fast asleep, but Santa entered his bedroom, “Awaken, Awaken little John”
He awoke, but couldn’t believe Santa was actually standing there
Santa told little John we have a journey to the North Pole
The train was called, “WISHES DELIGHT”
The steam engine had turned on its headlight
The signal was given to “ALL ABOARD!”
The train started to pull out
It’s a Christmas joy with anticipation to shout
The steam was flying in the air and the train’s whistle could be heard in the distance
A little heart that can’t compare
Suddenly it starts to snow
The Christmas trees were all bowing from below
But the train had still miles to go and it was the North Pole bound being the flow
Travelling up steep hills and the mountains looking like movie stills
Yet the steam engine being determined in its own will
Finally a sight in a child’s eyes
NORTH POLE, but too a little child, “TOYLAND”
Little John steps off the train
It was his fascination that remained
Santa escorts little John into his workshop
There were many toys sitting on shelve tops
There were toys among toys, and there was plenty of them to give any child joy
Santa was constant thinking he must have little John home by midnight
But Santa was considerate and polite
Little John was amazed at Santa’s place
This was something Little John will never ever erase
Immediately following little John had fallen asleep
He was dreaming in my soul to keep
Stars all shining bright
They are telling everyone Merry Christmas and have a good night.

Toyland will never be the same
Yet kid’s hearts of happiness will always remain
But Santa’s Toyland Elves can’t leave the punch bowl alone
No sense of direction being shown
So it’s that alcohol drink being their pick me up
But its there are delays plenty in toy making production
In fact, the Elves are all drunk
I just found one Elf passed out in a trunk
Another Elf is stuck on the ceiling
This you won’t not believe, another Elf is asking the Christmas Tree for a date
Now for Heaven’s sake
Christmas is just days away
However, what would Santa say?
Santa would say, “No delays on this day”
Toys have too be made
Schedule in toy production is not out of the shade
Get to work Elves
It’s not a matter of what else
Kids are depending on us
I am making this toy production an absolute must
So sober up with no fuss
It’s about the kids all over being our priority plus.

"i loved it"
that's what i'll proclaim
and pounce on any opportunity to say
how sweet it was, all of it
the peaches on my porch
the leeches in the lake
the alphabet song, story time
libraries and secrets and sunshine and play
imagination, creation
disbelief, fascination at things
i now take as given

"i loved it"
i'll announce to anyone who'll listen
recounting the laughter and the adventure
the brightness of eyes and sun
the thrill of the unknown
curiosity, shoelaces, flower stickers, beach sand
and they'll smile and speak of toyland
nostalgic awe collecting in the corners of their eyes
and i will smile and offer in agreement
"i loved it"

because i will have forgotten the hopelessness, the fear
the harsh words and hard hands
the mind games the guilt
the disgusted eyes and false goodbyes
that a set of small hands I barely remember
set aside on my bedside table
under a white sheet just barely covering the edges
and a sign written shakily in pink glitter pen
"do not disturb; she's sleeping"

and whenever i face my tooth brushing reflection
or lie awake in a stranger's bed
when i find myself wandering alone in a crowned place
and a memory sparks and burns slowly, etched in scattered flecks in my brain
that quickly become clearer
their touch certain and desperate
their trace slow to fade
i'll shut my eyes and wait
for all those frozen thoughts to melt away
and they will
i'll make them
washed off down squeezed lashes,
brushed to the side they'll fall
and i will rest my head against the wall
fill my head with thoughts of "tragic beauty"
grit my teeth into a smile
and when my heart has been ground into a powder so fine
it resembles an ocean
and in liquid form can almost be called whole again
i'll believe myself when my mouth finds the shape of
"i loved it"

Hear me scream!
Hear me wail!
I am alive
I said!

This anger lives with me
but it's not destructing me
how to explain the hard equilibrium
in which souls like I live
it's making me move my limbs
hear us scream
the unwanted
the troubled
the disabled
hear us exist
we are here! We won't hide our face anymore
We can do it, granted, so you know
As Babes In Toyland speak this secret to me
we'll live in your margins, but we'll never die
beauty and truth lie in the garbage bins of the world
if the world doesn't know, it's not our fault.

Hear us scream!
Hear us survive!
Hear us dream!
Chase our star!
We are loaded with stars!
In this pandemónium
we shine!

For us on the beach,
Outside the gates of "Troy,"
We called ourselves Vulcan.

And they tried to steal our identity!
Us! The Gardeners!

That's what they wrote the Torah around,
For they stole our children.

They put them on an island;
Pleasure Island, Toyland.

They bought and they sold them,
Used them & abused them.

I have rebuilt what was destroyed.
I have restored what was corrupted.
I have returned an elusive wisdom.

Confusing for a young child at Thanksgiving
was watching the surreal farce that is March
of the Wooden Soldiers [or 'Babes in Toyland'],
& then see the Rockettes portray those same
soldiers in their annual Christmas Spectacular
at Radio City. I'm thinking, how can I get
a mindless army of articulated female soldiers?
Something about the Rat King, originally
meant to be a depiction of Satan; the soldiers
possessed by the spirits of fallen angels, as in
a house divided against itself that cannot stand...