Tableau at Twilight

 I sit in the dusk.
 I am all alone.

Enter a child and an ice-cream cone.


A parent is easily beguiled
By sight of this coniferous child.


The friendly embers warmer gleam,
The cone begins to drip ice cream.


Cones are composed of many a vitamin.

My lap is not the place to bitamin.


Although my raiment is not chinchilla,
I flinch to see it become vanilla.


Coniferous child, when vanilla melts
I’d rather it melted somewhere else.


Exit child with remains of cone.

I sit in the dusk.
 I am all alone,

Muttering spells like an angry Druid,
Alone, in the dusk, with the cleaning fluid.

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