[First Post] 491
Geppetto drifted at the hearth
To hopes beyond redeem,
And in the flicker's licking light
Were heaped his stifled dreams.
Long cherished days of innocence
Lay whittled bare with time.
If only he could now regain
A youth once held sublime.
Geppetto stroked the wide-eye brow
Of little Figaro.
When, in a simple cat-stretch yawn,
A spark began to grow.
Perhaps, he mused, you'd dance a jig
With strings tied to your paws,
And I could lift this emptiness
With puppet show applause.
What fun, my friend, to fill this shop
With strains of giggled joy?
I think I'll buy a block of pine
And carve myself a boy.
[This message has been edited by turtle (01-24-2009 08:45 PM).]