Twas a fetching kind’o December wind;
Blew poor Sally Gossamer Wingstep so very far;
Out of the copse across lands of the fairiekynd,
Past The Queen’s Tree and Jonathan’s guardian webstar.
Twas over by Fablehaven where the three girls dwelt,
Playing with the new puppy as music wafted from the frosted windows.
Such a nice place with goats and cats and one lone fox: Redpelt—
Mind, stay out of his way, hast no sense of humor, goodness knows!
But what a curious thing was occurring inside that house!
My fairy dust, what are they doing? Caressing a fir tree?
With boxes of shiny bulbs, and spikes, and stringy tinsel;
All the while singing strange songs were those sisters three.
Sally flew in the barely open mail slot to listen:
“Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All The Way,”
The three girls warbled at full joyous throat.
Sally liked the little ditty, but what’s a “sleigh?”
Sally exited through the mail slot and headed on home,
Grateful for the December trees and the Queen’s leave to roam.
Kitt
pueriles 