Twas the week before Christmas and all through the store, the aisles were crowded, with people galore. When what to my wandering eyes should appear, but a space without people, a haven adored.
I slipped to the aisle, and soon sighed a relief. I peered at the shelving all filled and untouched. Not a package was opened, just so much dust. I blew on the counter, and flung off the dust, too see what was wrong with the musty old boxes.
What could be useless to all of the people, that give you the fruitcakes, frizers, and dongles, plaid trousers, and mittens, fluggles and dowzers. I read from the boxes, and soon threw to the floor. The most worthless of trash that sits in the store.
There on the cover, for all to see. Printed in bold, it said sad but true, “Made for use on Play Station 2”.
Ad Noctum
Tis but the bards duty to entertain you my good man or damsel fair. Let the merriment begin!
Has anyone a tale to weave, to paint a prose to remind us, of the fairer times of youth, when all the world was new and wondrous. Please set a while and remind us. A tale or two would welcome be.
handy
Is that perhaps by John Phillips Susa? A Christmas song to raise and inspire, the tamping of feet, the eating of meat.
Ah, but tis of a Bard you have spoken, that left us and others his story to tell. To childern and other’s we weave them a tale, that many have heard, and others still speak of. The wonderful healer called Seuss.
Cheers to all from Phobia. 
…If you got the greeting card I sent to mom, who got all the personal pictures? :eek:
