The Mixed-Rhymer
Tyburn and Diamante, the smarty and the glow, are now here
and they’re ready, perfectly ready, to be read by you my dear!
The wintry weather have mantled their innocent forms all day,
and by the window they’re leaning on my last hope, their hooray.
I watch li’l Haiku, flowing, with orange flame in the evening wind,
whilst the mystical orb lingers at the blue mountain---the fairies’ inn.
Dinner-fume is not floating-up yet, perhaps not today, from your kitchen,
so I, the mixed-rhymer, will do them the reading with pizzas in our hands.
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