A shape in the storm

I like walking with my friend at night,

He likes it cold and I not-bright.

Today it’s snowing, can’t see a thing.

It’s pretty nice, the wind makes me swing.

We walk for a while, while he’s busy sniffing.

He thinks the scents interesting and spiffing.

I yawn a bit, it’s been a long day,

What I really want is just hit the hay.

I glance around while my friend is busy,

When I look to the west, I get dizzy.

Across the snowy fields, I see a shape,

Like a man with a hunch back or a brawny ape.

It’s far away, yet it reaches the sky,

The tallest pines don’t reach its thigh.

I can’t see its head, it’s immense,

If it fell, I’d be past tense.

The snow storms swirl around it like flies.

It makes a new one as one wanes and dies.

It just breathes and the storm clouds come,

Staring chills me and I go numb.

It doesn’t see me, I’m too small,

Smaller than a tiny mouse baby’s rag doll.

With its pinky it could crush our house,

I matter less than tick or a louse.

It moves to the west like a glacial mass,

The snowstorm thickens as it starts to pass.

Its giant feet don’t disturb the trees,

The only thing they feel is the freezing breeze.

You can’t see its tracks on the snow,

I wouldn’t find any if I searched high and low.

It makes a sound that shakes my bones,

The loudest and deepest of earthen groans.

There’s a reply and I see its kin,

Their penetrating talk pierces my chin.

They walk further and the groans die out,

I hope there isn’t a town on their route.

A bark and yank wakes me from my trance.

My friend is normal with his sniffing dance.

I guess he didn’t see what I saw,

Or sees them every day and is not in awe.


Why are trees covered in snow?

There was once a conference quite a while ago.

The attendees were trees as far as I know.

They were worried about what to wear,

During winter in the cold, biting air.

There was pine who was a bit fluky,

His ideas could be just a bit spooky.

He suggested that they should wear flames,

They’d stay warm in their wintry games.

It was the only idea they had: So sure.

As you might imagine, the result was a bit poor.

It did keep them warm and it did it quite well,

Also lit up the world in which they did dwell.

They had one problem: The fire was adventurous,

And its approach to trees was very, very denturous.

The fire escaped and ate: it spread.

It engulfed forests leaving some trees dead.

The trees gathered again after this disaster,

This time listening to their tree-confectionery master.

He suggested everyone should try wearing cake.

It’s beautiful, tasty and it’s easy to bake.

This idea was fine as it worked as expected,

It did look nice and it warmed and protected.

The problems came with the local fauna.

Eat the trees, the animals did wanna.

They weren’t careful, so while they ate,

There was a loss of bark, of leaves and weight.

The trees got cold once again in their plight.

The winter proved almost too tough to fight.

One last summit before they would quit,

One last try before they would submit.

There was one birch who had a thought,

Solution: plentiful snow, the land was fraught.

It seemed silly as snow can be cold,

This was known since the Earth wasn’t old.

But, they tried as they had no choice,

And after some grumbling they did rejoice.

Yes, at first, it feels a bit chilly,

But it’s warmer than the air, and frilly.

It glistens and shines, an illumination:

The trees won’t freeze in any location,

Plus, they can read in the dark quite lightly,

Making the long evenings shine quite brightly.

This is why the trees in wintertime,

Are covered in snowy branches to climb.

Aren’t you glad they decided on snow?

Glue might’ve made forest walks a bit slow.

Political party names

If I ever found a political party,

In case it’s run by the likes of Moriarty,

The name has to rhyme with something silly.

There’s a good reason. (Yes there is. Really.)

Should the party take over and start a regime,

Oppress everyone like in a bad dream,

The name can be used to mock and deride,

Which will start their downward slide.

Jokes are a great way to administrate power,

To show someone their place if they go sour.

Imagine a leader trying to rule,

When everyone thinks him quite the fool.

Imagine a fiendish military junta,

Who only talk via an official Grunt-a.

If their name’s e.g. M2,

They just crumble as they’re called M-poo.

A contingency plan, which works quite well,

Dictators have to wade through more hell.

And if the party is liked by us all,

This wordplay will shake your abdominal wall.

A cartoonist in the Times will make a good strip:

You’ll laugh so much your disc might slip.

So if I found a party, I’ll name it the Red Lily.

If it goes bad, you know how to make it silly.

Christmas party

I don’t think this Christmas party went too well.

Although I didn’t hear anyone cry or yell,

But somebody complained about the Christmas tree,

And the decorations we got for free.

It turns out one Christmas light,

Was the Ark of the Covenant, quite a sight.

It melted the faces of at least two guests,

Made them look silly in their brand new vests.

Also, the tree was actually an ent,

That’s probably why it was so cheap to rent.

At 6pm he stood up and left,

Straight through the wall, a decorator-y theft.

The Santa we hired was actually a bear,

With vampiric tendencies and old-fashioned flair.

It drained up one and gobbled up three,

Escaped via the hole left by the tree.

Despite this we opened the presents,

Full of snakes, serpentine contents.

A boa constrictor got one of us,

Two black mambas caused a big fuss.

Afterwards we sang to brighten the mood.

The police showed up and they had a feud.

Confiscated our voices as we sounded quite bad,

This might have made even the rest of us sad.

But we had food, lots and lots,

Pans and bowls and saucers and pots.

As we got ready to stuff our face,

Aliens napalmed the dishes from space.

Their sensors said the taste was abhorrent,

Which is why they had a nuke-warrant.

So, with empty stomachs and no way to sing,

Everyone went home, some donning a sling.

Next time I won’t outsource the party plan

To the one with the slogan: Cristhmas! Man!

Mike, the tech-fairy

Yeah, ok, sure, I’ll be there in a sec,

Coming right over will be just a quick trek.

I mean, It’s only three countries away,

Even if I’m slow, It’s a minute of my day.

I’ll just fix my tell-y-porta’s motor,

The one with the hamster-run, semi-functional rotor.

It’s missing only one crucial piece,

The only, single, one I can’t get with a lease.

It’s the snowflake crystal I found in the Pole,

Was it north or south, from a giant or a troll?

In any case, the artifact’s busted,

I’ll call my friend, old and trusted.

Mike the tech-fairy, he’s my man,

He’s the IT-wizard, always with the plan.

He can find everything in just a jiffy,

Even questionably legal or otherwise iffy.

I called Mike but got no reply,

Not like him to leave me hang out to dry.

He must’ve gotten lost in the Deep Net,

If you ask me, that’s the best bet.

See, when Mike surfs, he doesn’t just type,

Stare at the screen while the mouse goes swipe,

All the tech-fairies get sucked in,

That’s the best way to do the job and to win.

They sail the web waves and reel in the data,

Their nets catch everything from a, to o, to zeta.

If it’s down deep they don their gear,

The information scuba leaves nothing to fear.

Even the binary sharks won’t come close,

One HTTP-harpoon, and through it goes.

Sometimes the pirates do pose a danger,

But Mike knows the tricks, he’s no stranger.

The secret passcodes to the pirate-y bay,

Anonymous sources to fill up his sleigh.

So Mike’s ok, most likely on his way.

When he’s back, I’ll just fix my contraption,

It won’t take long, I’ll see you in a snaption.

Sweet-tooth fairy

My sister built a gingerbread cottage,

It’s pretty primitive, no piping or wattage.

More of a shack if I’m not to lie,

There are no windows: you won’t stay dry.

But its deliciousness makes it quite nice,

That’s the main thing, its best spice.

That’s the reason it had a new tenant

(Along with the fancy marzipan pennant).

The sweet-tooth fairy decided to move in,

Its cotton candy beard just shaking on its chin.

He left his chocolate shoes at the door,

His brown taffy jacket he threw on the floor.

Got real comfy on the gingerbread couch,

Quickly opened up his sweet-tooth pouch.

Took out his caramel sweet-tooth tablet,

Got online with his licorice cablet.

Started working; made people crave sweets,

Whether they were working or dozing on their sheets.

This he did by the magic of his app:

Sweet-tooth-o-matic (with a digital map!)

It locates the probable marks,

In confectionery factories or parks.

(To be fair, the former is as likely,

As a Disney movie made by Spike Lee.)

Then it takes over a part of their brain,

The one that keeps them from going insane.

Pokes and wiggles it around, back and forth,

If it points to the south, it’s twisted to the north,

If to the left, it’s turned a whole 180,

Thus making sweets seem way more weighty.

The sweet-tooth fairy does this for some time,

When the quota is filled, he hears a loud chime.

He comes out and stretches his legs,

Gets into the pool bigger than two eggs,

Relaxes in the chocolate sauce’s bubbles,

And forgets the world’s sweets-related troubles.

Entertaining guests

I had a friend visit my home,

These snowy lands that I like to roam.

She’s from the south, used to the heat,

Here it’s the fire that sustains your heartbeat.

She loved the clean forest, pure and white,

The cold not so much, it had a bite.

I took her walking into the woods,

Nature’s filled with our bestest goods.

Rabbit tracks filled her eyes with wonder,

She dove into the snow (no, not a plunder.)

The air’s so fresh it makes you cringe,

The cold invites some ice on your fringe.

She took pictures of trees and fields,

Gigantic spruces: snow storm shields.

I showed her one fun practical joke,

A physical prank familiar to folk.

I told her to stand next to a birch,

Big clumps of snow on its every perch.

“Close your eyes and wait for a sec,

Oh, and also, cover your neck.”

While she’s waiting, I get ready,

Next to the birch, I get steady.

Kick it like a horse, with all my might,

Then look up for a very pretty sight.

Quickly run away four feet or six,

Turn around as she and snow intermix.

Hear the nice scream of joy and fright,

Laugh and howl at her minor plight.

That’s an easy way to trick a land-stranger.

Plus, this trick doesn’t have any danger.