Forest Fantasy
(Sonnet, non-rhymed)




I hold aloft a swirling candy cane.
'Twas on a tree, assume it was a gift.
It nestled there twixt needles of a pine
All shriveled and abandoned by a brook.

I pondered here just how this came about,
This morsel of some past and happy time.
A now forgotten trinket that I find
Amongst the grizzled needles of that pine.

And soon I stripped it of its meager shell,
To slip a languid swipe across my tongue.
A minty flavor met my favored taste,
With that small test, too soon the rest was gone.

Then suddenly I swooned, and as I fell,
I heard a lilting laughter from the knell.