Debates are won by
not scholarly knowledge but
My favorite seat
Has no wings or down cushion
It’s with me always
Bad day, awful night
Headache, horrible life
Where rocky cliff meets stormy sea,
a castle perched, forever be.
Where gray stone surrounds little seen sky.
‘Twas this fortress a young princess cry.
The princess post birth, her parents delight,
treasured by day, guarded by night.
Feasting with jesters, ponies, puppets and maids,
a gaggle of servants draw bright velvet shades
With sentry of knight to share all her dreams,
her eyes shut tight to hide her screams.
Time wasted limitless, she wished for an end.
The princess was lonely without a true friend.
One morning awoken by a kiss from a queen,
sleepy eyes opened to a sight seldom seen.
Golden light sparkles in diamond pane rare,
a sapphire morn burns black coal night air.
A tasty breakfast served on tray in bed.
Downy pillows fluffed to rest her head.
The king arrived more jolly than ever,
with riddle to solve, if anyone clever.
“What may have wings cannot fly.
Holds a heart yet cannot die.
Shaken pitch laughs off rain.
Having one a princess to gain?”
The joyous young girl made many a guess.
The kings’ piddling patience grew less and less.
The queen and knights all had a try.
The king muttered “castle!” with a loud sigh.
The room bemused by the riddler’s zeal.
Most unconcerned with how others feel.
A castle repeated in more pleasant a tone,
a home for a princess to call her own.
But first a short trip outside the wall,
where grass tickles feet and trees grow tall.
There are lessons to learn from tutors wise.
There are truths to see with growing eyes.
Now’s time a princess must prepare,
for the eventual call of a prince to be dear.
A someday king awaits his throne,
whence you shall rest upon your own.
The princess knew the day would come,
a bartered prize as was her Mum.
No fairy tale endings for spawn of kings.
“Tis a life shackled with heavy gold rings.
Adventure awaits, no time for self-pity,
freedom’s short locked in a stone city.
Knowledge abounds beyond heavy gates.
The princess skips past on worn ancient slates.
Beneath a fine bonnet of satin and lace,
excitement glowed on her adolescent face.
Her velvet shoes barely touching the dirt,
a merry cyclone a-swirl in silk skirt.
Her mentor soon waves from path by wood.
Magical flora beckons, some bad, some good.
Wonders overwhelm in green forest lush.
An ocean of emeralds painted with brush.
With each lash a-flutter bursts a new color.
Light and shades multiply them all more.
With the thirst of a sponge she did explore,
where surprises abound when not looked for.
A gentle breeze blew, a little leaf flew,
bright sky filled in the space anew
A ray of sunlight kissed a shiny stone.
Atop a bed of dewy leaf it rests alone.
With a tiny tap upon its shimmering side,
the distant fates of two collide.
Surface cracking on this egg thought stone,
a heartbeat wakened with thunderous tone.
Out popped a plump lump, beneath wings of scale.
A pat on the rump exposed its long tail.
A final stretch thrust shell shards to leaf.
And there lie a creature beyond belief.
Warm smiles shared with a new friend.
A precious little pearl, the girl’s to defend.
The gazes shattered by a howl from the trail,
‘twas the elderly teacher, impatient and frail.
The princess knew what had to be done.
The babe hid under her bonnet and bun.
Down the path she ran back to the gate.
Yelled to the guards “The teacher was late”
Gates barely open she slipped through the crack,
escaping notice of the tail down her back.
Safe in her chamber they shared the night’s meal,
both sharing puckers with fresh lemon peel.
Then swathed in plush robes, kissed on the head,
the fledgling was tucked safely under the bed.
Each night passing, more robes to conceal,
this teething tot with big teeth that’s real.
Each day growing from the princess’s scraps,
she grew thinner, now padded with straps.
The servants grew nervous at both the sight,
one lie near weightless, one flew in the night.
The princess’s secret though soon was known,
when her expanding friend went out alone.
The knights became dazed by armored flight,
their swords no match for the hunger of night.
The king and queen where too nearly maimed.
Pawns, bishops and rooks where all to be blamed.
A wizard was called to tame the toddler beast.
His tenure cut short when almost a feast.
The creature now huge, truly loved the girl.
She called her Sunshine, the princess’s Pearl.
Together they frolicked on the castle rooftop.
The king spying danger called for a stop.
Shouting “time’s come to put childhood behind,
It’s now time to marry, I’ve someone in mind.
He’s brave, sweet, wise and kind, at least I’m told.
There’ll be time to adjust as you both grow old.”
Escorted by king to a royal coach and four,
off to be locked behind another gilded door.
Her fate was sealed by a noble families need,
alliances grown with common regal seed.
But with a twist, jerk and a naughty giggle,
the squiggly princess was free now to wiggle.
Breaking free, running fast, past all unaware.
She zigged and zagged toward the rooftop stair.
Screaming loudly for her only friend Pearl,
who tried to save the much pursued girl.
A guard with a pike held Pearl on a chain.
Blocking the Sunshine’s escape of the reign.
Seeing her friend at the top of the stair,
Pearl snapped her links then into the air.
The petrified guard fled from his post,
grabbing for Sunshine he’d surely be toast.
The princess ran to the edge of the roof,
yelling to Pearl, she feared aloof.
The big eared beast sharply turned about,
hearing her Sunshine’s gloomy shout
The king with guards, knights and queen,
Stormed to the roof unprepared for what’s seen.
The princess looked back, blew a kiss to her mother,
and a warm thoughtful wave to all the other.
Then with a carefree step she disappeared.
Plunging to her sudden death, or so was feared.
The mortified lookers all lunged for the ledge.
Hoping the princess landed safe in a hedge.
The king peeked over, not wanting to see,
when up rose his honey like a big bumble bee.
She hung from the neck of her dear friend Pearl,
now bonded for life, this dragon and girl.
Higher she climbed with a dragons eye view,
a view to be viewed by a very small few.
Now all surveyed, now all her realm,
Sunshine’s the captain, Pearl the helm.
Over forest and mountains, ocean and stream,
free in a world where she need not dream.
Adrift on her Pearl upon the endless sea,
Alone they now be in their realm of fantasy.
The king broken hearted wept in his sleep.
The queen stricken ill with never a peep.
They later agreed to bare a new heir,
whether girl or boy was not a care.
The next child’s fate was sure to be better,
born free of mind and trappings that clutter.
With a loving heart nurtured by family and friends,
then given the choices to choose their own ends.
The princess returned in time for the birth.
The kingdom was full of merriment and mirth.
The princess enchanted with a friend who flew.
And all ends happily as fairy tales all do.
There’ll be no time for play today.
Because today’s adventure day.
We’re off to clean grandma’s shed.
Door so low dad bumps his head.
Lots of stuff for us to see.
Each thing has its own history.
There’s: rakes, shovels, mowers and pails,
Tires and wheels, old boat sails.
A big and rusty nut-less bolt
And a shoe for a shoe-less colt,
Sleds and skis, skates, paddles and oars,
Broken windows and old wood doors.
Crates and bins, barrels and jars,
guitar made from box of cigars,
Dad’s reaching for things up high.
Mom thumbs a scrapbook, tear in eye.
The treasure’s you find when you look;
cushion for chair and long lost book,
toy box from when dad was a kid
with missing hinge and broken lid.
I had to put that one aside.
To fill with treasure that I’ll hide.
And keep it safe for mom and dad
with memories, adventures had.
Sheds empty, our jobs half way.
Sifting and sorting all long day.
Next are lunch and maybe a nap.
Then spend some time on grandma’s lap.
To the street go things we don’t use;
hand less clock and half pair of shoes.
Forgotten treasures go away.
Some I’ll keep while others will stay.
It’s grandma’s play house in the shade.
But in the yard five piles we made.
One to save, two we don’t know,
one’s maybe, the small one can go.
So many things for grandma to do,
when our shed adventure is through .
She can paint pictures or pot plants,
maybe yoga – go in a trance.
A final sweep and all is clean.
The nicest shed I’ve ever seen.
Now’s time to put back things to keep.
All stacked neat, not too high or deep.
The dust is gone that made us sneeze.
But no space left for new hobbies.
Dads hurt his back, moms tummy aches.
From our lunch of burgers and shakes.
But grandma’s happy and me too.
We’re all glad the mission is through.
Our adventure had, job well done.
Memories made of having fun.
Dad’s old chest safe under my bed.
Memories tucked safe in my head.
And now’s time to say goodnight.
Adventure’s done, out goes the light.
Time for time-out it’ll end soon.
Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.
She’s had it since her wedding day.
Used just for holidays, not play.
I said that it was shaped just right,
to dig a trench where armies can fight.
Needs to be deep but not too wide.
Had to dig fast so they can hide.
Buried far down just like a tomb.
Guarding treasure found in your room.
Found in a box high on a chest.
It’s the booty pirates like best.
I must protect those shiny things:
chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.
Hid them good, remembered the map.
But then forgot after my nap.
To help me dig I found a pet.
The best digger there is I’ll bet.
Finished our yard then went next door.
Found nothing, ran off to dig more.
Chased our cat high up in the tree.
Grandma called the police for me.
Her nurse had to help make the call.
The police came, that isn’t all.
While chasing his dog that I found,
the man fell from holes in the ground.
He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.
I said it was his dog, not me.
His face was red, limping away.
But grandma’s heart will be okay.
And I have some more good news.
While digging today, I wore no shoes.
They’re nice and clean and tucked away.
I’ll try no pants some other day.
Though mess was made with my bare feet,
I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.
Pushed all the water out the door.
Then to your room, I cleaned some more.
Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.
I luckily then found the bleach.
You’ll smile when you turn on the light.
I know you like things clean and white,
with spots of color here and there.
You’ll surely hug your little dear.
I’m glad you’re home early today.
Don’t believe what the neighbors say.
The rescue came, Dad’s all right.
Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.
Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.
I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.
I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.
Fix the chair dad broke with his back.
He climbed too high to find his keys,
lost his balance from wobbly knees.
I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.
Then found soldiers under my bed.
Recalled the mission to be done.
Ran downstairs to start the fun.
Found no spoons not already bent.
But then found yours and out I went.
And that’s where my story began.
Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.
I know that time-outs hurt you too.
But when it’s done I’ll still love you.
I like wheels – that’s what I like.
Cars or trucks or a motor bike,
wheels make me smile and grin.
Some wheels spin in wind on a pin.
I wish I had wheels on my feet.
Then I can zoom down the street.
Up the ramp and flying high,
wheeling through the open sky.
I wish I had wheels on my chair.
I could get things way over there.
I could scoot in my stocking feet.
Or reach things high standing on seat.
Wheels go round and round in my head.
I wish I had wheels on my bed.
Then I can drive to all my dreams.
Win all the races, hear crowd screams.
In the garage, my wheels parked there.
Soon I’ll be out, wind in my hair.
First kick tires, adjust the seat.
Polish the chrome isn’t she sweet.
Check the mirror so I can see,
everything – way behind me.
Yes – riding fast is what I like.
On all three wheels of my trike.
Buttons, buttons everywhere,
they’re on this and over there.
They’re on clothes and touch-screens.
They’re on phones and flying machines
They can be found in boxes or jars,
or in neat rows on boats and cars.
Being on the button is good,
pushing people’s, you never should.
Some buttons are big, some are small.
Some buttons do nothing at all,
some are outies others innies,
silly buttons on our bellies.
You may have a cute button nose,
to enjoy the smell of sweet rose.
While buttoned up or buttoned down,
in the rain or strolling in town.
Buttons in all shapes, any size,
having a spare is always wise.
Buttons for eyes on our stuffed friends.
Uses for buttons never ends.
We glue them on paper plates,
making gifts for special dates.
Add string then sprinkle glitter on,
next curly yarn, name in crayon.
Some are toggles, some are switches.
Some like snaps to hold up breeches.
No zippers for me, I prefer,
buttons to hold all together.
Glad to share my buttons with you,
we’re all buttoned up, story through.
Rhyme’s done, time to button my lip,
I’ll say goodbye, have a safe trip.
The End sck081414
While riding today on my swing,
Heard a song, started to sing.
Beatles click and chirping bird,
An outside song, inside not heard.
In the wood wind blows through the trees.
Back-up came from buzzing bees.
The babbling brook played the rhythm.
Over smooth stones the waters strum.
Keeping the beat atop a log,
Bass was played by a croaking frog.
It’s nature’s band with me to sing.
Soaring high on my backyard swing.
The time of the day that’s bittersweet.
Resting our heads, eyes and feet.
Day’s not over much left to do.
Watch TV or go to the zoo.
I’m not tired, it’s not too late.
Just a few hours, that’ll be great.
I’ll clean my room, music down low.
Fold some laundry, put on a show.
So many things better than sleep,
Reading a book, taking a leap.
Or have a snack by candlelight.
Why must we always waste our night?
I’m not ready for bedtime yet.
I might miss things that I’ll regret.
Things are missed when you close your eyes.
Can’t see stars or watch the sunrise.
If nights awake I’d sleep all day.
I’ll have no time for friends or play.
I guess if there’s a choice to make –
I’ll sleep at night, spend day awake.
A little scared of our trip last year,
to the far north-lands, home of the bear.
Mountains, forests and an ice-cold lake,
no swimming or castles of sand to make.
Fresh air and sunshine, stars in the sky,
camping and hiking, climb mountains high.
That didn’t sound like much fun to me,
I’d rather visit a nice warm sea.
Drive lasted hours, slumped in the backseat.
We ran out of snacks, then nothing to eat.
We read a new book of funny rhymes,
I fell asleep a couple of times.
Some stories were good, some I got bored,
some I laughed loudly, others I snored.
Arriving late in the darkness of night,
waking early to rising sunlight.
First we ate breakfast then a short hike.
Had lunch with dessert, what’s not to like.
Then a museum of the natives past,
legends of old and now fading fast.
Heard some stories, we saw a show.
My favorite was of long ago,
it was of a little kid like me.
The bravest kid there could ever be.
She was the daughter of the great chief.
He died protecting all from the thief,
who flew in the night stealing their food.
And the cause of their thousand-year feud.
The girl shortened her father’s long spear.
Then roamed the forest without a fear,
to find who took her father away.
Then slay the dragon, no time for play.
I laid in bed thinking of all I heard.
Remembered almost all, details blurred.
Woke the next morning ready to go,
to fill in the blanks I didn’t know.
I went to the shore before sunrise.
I climbed on the rocks. That wasn’t wise.
Had to know if the legend was true,
then fell in from slippery shoe.
Hit the water with a splash and scream.
I floated down and started to dream.
I woke up much later warm and dry.
But there’s no sign of bright morning sky.
I felt all around for a way out.
Then saw light from something’s big snout.
I screamed and jumped, bumped my head and then,
I knew I was in that dragon’s den.
Her nostrils grew bigger, warm and bright.
Would I be cooked for a tasty bite?
She started to laugh and I to cry.
Was I to live or was I to fry?
She said “Hello” in a dragon tone.
“Glad to see you, I’m always alone.”
I was much surprised to hear her speak.
Her nature was gentle, almost meek.
Now in the brightness of her warm light.
We sat and chatted into the night.
She told me the truths I had to know.
And when she’s done burping I could go.
Dragons can wait to burp but it’s slow.
Or blow out flames with a mighty glow.
A truly bad idea, we both think.
So we waited for her belly to shrink.
We waited and waited for hours or more.
So she could shrink and unblock the door.
And when most all of her gas gone away,
I could slip out to the light of day.
By now it’s late and dragon’s still plump.
Rocks all around, I sat on my rump.
She spoke of the last to be with her –
It was the littlest dragon slayer.
“She was three feet tall and very bold,
Not much more than eight or nine years old.
She charged at me with her tiny spear,
tears pouring down, she showed no fear.
She plunged the stick in my outstretched paw.
She tried pulling it out to poke me some more.
The tip broke off; I’ve had it since then,
tucked away safe in my dragons den.
The girls cause noble though a mistake.
Her dear father’s life I didn’t take.
He chased me into the dark of night.
Belly swollen, I couldn’t take flight.
I ran and ran then climbed a tall tree.
But the brave young chief followed me.
He heard some chicks cry out on a limb.
Surviving the wind their chance’s grim.
Was the branch to weak, he couldn’t be sure.
But reached for the nest and made it secure.
He was a brave man, doing his best.
But fell to his death saving the nest.
The small girl glad to know what was right.
But she’s still very sad at her loss that night.
It wasn’t my fault but I share the blame.
Though sad, she forgave me all the same.
While in the forest the rest of that day,
we planned how to keep others away.
I promised to sleep most of the year,
hiding when there are people to scare.
The slayer agreed to spare my soul.
Keeping her friendship is my life’s goal.
She would try to visit when she could,
into the darkness of the night wood.
I gave her a claw as proof of who won –
that famous dragon slaying mission.
She wore it always and was admired by all”
I said it was now on the museum’s wall.
The dragon then shared more of her life,
her times of happiness, times of strife.
There’s never to be any flying at all.
Unless to answer another dragons call.
Said she’s free to swim under the ice,
but never when the weather is nice.
And while out for her last swim of the year.
I fell in and she found me there.
She brought me back to her cozy den,
where she’d hibernate all over again.
Our chat ended as her eyes turned red,
her tummy stirring, she warmly said.
“Please take the tip of the slayers spear,
So you can recall your time spent here.
Think of me fondly now that we’re friends.
And trust that a dragon’s love never ends.”
She finally burped, I held my nose,
but that’s how a dragon friendship goes.
Then out the backdoor and into the wood,
I ran as fast as ever I could.
Now thinking, of course of mom and dad,
the sooner I’m back the less they’ll be sad.
Then the rangers soon found me safe and sound.
They were all happy I hadn’t drowned.
Back at the camp we all hugged and kissed.
I was safe and assured I was missed.
But then all the questions that they had –
Over and over until I got mad!
They didn’t believe my dragon tale.
I showed them my proof to no avail.
It was thought that my memories blurred –
by all the stories that I had heard.
Tales of dragons and slayers in the night,
all normal causes of a child’s fright.
A doctor checked the bump on my head,
then sent me back home for time in bed.
I’m glad for the friendship of a dragon.
But all in all it wasn’t much fun.
I’ve learned new things and a good lesson had.
That a kid all alone is very very bad!
And now I’ve shared my legend with you.
Like the slayer’s, it’s mostly all true.
But if you don’t believe I’m sincere –
I’ll show you the tip of that little spear.
~:~ the End ~:~
If life begins at birth we know of no tomorrows.
If life begins at ten we know of no ends.
If life begins at twenty there’s still time a plenty.
If life begins at thirty it’s time to get flirty.
If life begins at forty it’s time to get naughty.
If life begins at fifty it’s getting kind of iffy.
If life begins at sixty, then have yourself a ball.
If life begins at seventy you had no life at all.
If life begins at eighty than you better take it easy.
If life begins at ninety then better you than me.
If life begins at a century it’s a life most never see.
Every days a surprise, every tomorrow’s a bet.
It doesn’t matter where you start, it’s how far you get.
My pencil in hand – mind set free
Erasing the chains binding me
Safe in my world of poetry
A better friend there cannot be
No rhyme or reason there’s to flee
No shackles of society
No meter of conformity
No question of sincerity
No judge, jury or guilty plea
No door can stop my slender key
I’ll wander through infinity
Another side of life’s journey
Draw lines that know no boundary
Return with words for all to see
Arrange them well – create beauty
Then thank my little piece of tree
The End sck081514
A look, touch – A kiss
Hands, bodies – Tactile bliss
Love – Nothing’s amiss
Heart strings stroked feel heat
Neck caressed long and sweet
Rhythm head to feet
How humans learned
They died for knowledge yearned
Trial and error’d
Up’s Never Out
People that step up
to the plate will hit a ball
To veer is human,
true’s divine, paths do follow
the width of your line.
Climbing the ladder
of success, the ass ahead
Vacation’s soon and I can’t wait.
On the calendar mark the date.
Planning and dreaming all long year
Soon our vacation will be here.
I started to pack weeks before.
A few clothes and toys galore.
I need a lot for our long stay.
But mom repacks it anyway.
Alarm didn’t work, taxi was late.
With seconds left we made the gate.
Sat in the plane with no fresh air.
Waiting for bad weather to clear.
Hours wasted then off we fly.
Wings wobble, we bounce in gray sky.
Black night rain, runway wet and slick.
Vacation starts, we all get sick.
We landed late our luggage not there.
Just full of clothes, I didn’t care.
Late night taxi cost us double,
Big tip needed for his trouble.
Get to our rooms, sun starts to rise.
Daylight’s wasted with closed eyes.
Day one of vacation’s now done,
Hope the next six will be more fun.
But first a shower then some rest.
Than out for breakfast that’ll be best,
Eggs and juice, toast with warm butter.
Opened the door our hearts flutter.
Toilets broke, no shower at all.
A sign on door said tub down hall.
Beds were unmade, hot water cool.
Mom’s mad, dad joked about the pool.
We went to the lobby to protest.
Stood in the line with all the rest.
The man at the desk did all he could.
Some of the guests didn’t treat him good.
Threw down his pen, could take no more.
Grunting and shouting ran for the door.
“Hotel closed” he said running out.
Leaving us stranded, all in doubt.
Where would we go, where would we stay?
Yet another bad vacation day.
We found a place, it wasn’t cheap.
But we needed a place to sleep.
Cramped and dark but at least clean.
The tiniest bathroom I’d ever seen.
Just two beds, no TV at all.
One small window looked at a wall.
Settling in to rest our eyes.
Then off to lunch in clear blue skies.
But halfway there it starts to rain.
My jackets gone, left on the plane.
We ran fast to a place nearby.
Sitting soaked on stools too high.
Fish only menu, not for me.
Hours passed drinking pop, refills free.
Bellies bloated, day spent.
The sun came out and down it went.
Saw a movie we saw before.
Back to our rooms, locked the door.
Much the same the rest of the week.
Sun came out once, we caught a peek.
Went to the beach, waters to cold.
A bad vacation getting old.
Good news came later that week.
Luggage found but in Chesapeake.
Put back on plane, soon to leave there.
They’ll be back late, we won’t be here.
Trip soon over saw a new place.
Lots of ant bites, rash on my face.
Dad lost his watch, mom caught a bug.
Stuffed plastic bags with things to lug.
Our ride to the airport, not much fun.
Stuck in traffic in the noon day sun.
Bad vacation was had this year.
Being home soon is all I care.
One good part of a trip gone bad.
Is getting home and being glad.
Vacations done, better next year.
You go and have fun, I’ll stay here.
Afloat in red stilettos, hair, nails and lips
Shimmering in black satin, taught about the hips
Blue green eyes sparkle as they glance my way
Smile wide across her face, yet I’ve nothing to say
Subtle hand reaching softly touches mine
Nervously reacting I nearly spilled her wine
Leaning ever closer, whispering in my ear
Sweet sounds alluring, words I’ve dreamt to hear
Standing stunned, throbbing chest
Twisted tongue on a tortured quest
A racing mind all aflutter
An uncertain stutter I did utter
With this mutter she did chortle
A pen less poet’s just a mortal
Welcome back to Hannahbelle’s folly
where dreams broken yet most stayed jolly.
The factory was shut, tourist didn’t stay,
the impatient grew impatient for a better day.
Most old town folk not wanting to go
agreed to a change in the Hannahbelle show.
Their now was the present, past’s time of old,
the gooey center betwixt is this tale told.
It starts with Charlie, who lacked business sense.
All money made was but half his expense.
Having won the factory therefore the town,
he became a fair leader, albeit a clown.
Yet a kinder soul there could never be.
All hungers fed, anytime, always free.
The workers prospered with newfound wealth,
not only from raises but dental and health.
The village glistened, all gloom washed away.
Their Renaissance grew brighter each passing day.
Charlie married soon after, a remarkable bride,
their love for each other they couldn’t hide.
Hannahbelle followed within that same year.
She’s properly pampered and handled with care.
By noble decree the eldest of elders proclaimed;
In honor of Charlie the towns to be renamed.
A contest was held to find the best name.
Most of the entries were all the same.
The town’s new name was Hannahbelleville,
from miles around people came for the thrill.
With towers of brick placed one at a time
all topped with a bell for the hourly chime.
The windows sparkled, doors welcomed all.
Just step right in and we’ll all have a ball.
Neat lines form long to be part of the show.
There are twists and turns wherever you go.
A bib and bags are given free at the door
to save what’s left for when you want more.
Ponchos welcome but most haven’t a care,
sweet diversions are why they’re all here.
Where chocolate waterfalls splash at their base,
what a tasty surprise to the passerby’s face.
There are also cakes, cookies and candies galore.
There’s shirts and hats at the little gift store.
The shelves always stocked, but not for long,
their prices are good so sales are strong.
On paper everything seemed OK.,
until a new town sprouted across the bay.
This new town was grander, factory too.
They stole Charlie’s recipes, yet he hadn’t a clue.
They built a new park with rides big and small.
It’s better than Hannahbelles that had none at all.
The competition soon became bold and brutal.
The rivals charged half for twice the strudel!
Though Charlie’s reluctant to change his way,
he worked all the harder without any pay.
Then Hannahbelle’s tuition became overdue,
not just one term but quite a few.
She’d have to go home without a degree.
The long spring stretched, she worked as three.
Side by side the little family all toiled.
Cooking and cleaning and keeping things oiled.
Summer arrived and thoughts were blooming.
She had to think fast, payday was looming.
Then a plan was hatched to save the day.
She called her classmates to all have a say.
Her idea was shared to change their fates.
The chefs and chemists mixed heated debates.
Mathematicians integrated their permutations.
The statisticians juggled interpolations.
The engineers tinkered to make all precise.
Artist’s flourished to make all look nice.
A manager’s needed to book weekend bands.
Then there’s the overhead and two hired hands.
There are taxes, tariffs and hidden fees.
We’ve a lawyer’s retained to shoot the breeze.
Bankers were safe with their calculations.
The accountants left to balance frustrations.
Our writers wrote slogans, jingles and ads.
Their pieces placed in papers for new I.T. grads.
A final test given for last minute tweaks.
Then code was input by computer geeks.
The output emerged and everyone’s thrilled.
Soon teeth and tummies both less filled.
It’ll be safe to consume whenever you please.
They’ll never melt and cannot freeze.
There’s no a messy wrappers or sticky streets.
When enjoying the new Hannahbelle binary treats.
Though you will need a dongle for a spare port,
to call up our server of cheese mocha torte.
You can try any flavor you think to choose,
try them all, there’s nothing to loose
We’ve green apple slush and warm fuzzy peach.
There’s seven billion in all, that’s one for each.
Just fill in the form and enter your pin.
Sit back, relax and let the digiconfection begin.
Pay what you can, take what you need.
The business is sweet without any greed.
And after all the bills are paid,
what’s left is ours; it’s what we’ve made.
What was made is what we make.
What Hannahbelle makes icing on her cake.
Hannahbelles treats now second to none,
without competition you’ve already won.
And as the creator of all that’s digiconfectionary,
she’s thought now to be a true visionary.
A university was founded, tuition’s free.
Hannahbelle was first to earn a degree.
Soon she was mayor of Hannahbelleville.
She could serve for life and probably will.
The company grew large, built in its niche.
Everyone did well, though no one got rich.
Hannahbelle shares all her profits and good will.
So all ends happily in Hannahbelleville.