With a tea spoon, correctly given name,
the warmth of milky brew,
and the comfort of knowing,
you are not alone out here.
The wild winds whistling, trees a-sway,
but within the home, games
are at play, the people’s thoughts,
dancing through the musky air,
like trails of stardust.
So many lights, and sparkling things,
it’s a time where we all feel like kings,
and emotions fly and fray but still -
we’re living in comfort, a bug
snug, rooting through strands,
of the carpet he owns.
Mist, rain, they said there would be sleet,
but perhaps they lied,
it doesn’t matter either way,
the happiness is in my hands,
a mug full of safe and warm,
like home it calls,
and I am undone.
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