Rider, certainly we’re ready to rock

By conquering, at last, our quested ride,

But I may not discern ‘tween path or block

With this chalazion in eyelid’s side.

Plus, your vision is still a marbled mess,

So let us forth proceed with guts and heart

As this task is more than a game of chess

And courageous faith seems best place to start. ; )

Terpsichorean’s appetency: for each feat to be by feet, unfettered if not fancy, finest as focused, and ever turned toward earning an encore. ; )

Some penguins march same speed as hares;

Others traipse tuned to tortoises.

Even if slow and steady fails,

It wins via experience.

And, if a repechage is due,

Then second chances can place first.

So, whether a whoosh or waddle—

Or winging, completes cooly win. ; )

Where wolves play

Near some hay,

They sing-say,

“Mares eat oats

And does eat oats

And little lambs eat ivy…”

Alas, re a mutton glutton a-huntin’,

The sheepdog will bark at you

With the farmer too, who

Suffers from cyanthropy—woo! ; )

When branches have been trimmed not by family’s kin,

But by furious claws of a humbug-grinch cat,

Just ask with a blink, wink, and sneeze once and again:

Santa will send mini-kitty tree MD stat.

She works just for pandoro crumbs from dessert’s din

And a light pinky-finger pat under her hat.

After prunes, balms, and some re-decor are all fin,

Relax and enjoy your new Christmas friends with grat. ; )