A while back I promised GoodGuysEatPie a sonnet for Christmas. Since I've been offline I'm a smidge tardy posting this, but better late than never.
"I'm late, I'm late!" he exclaims, from the Mad Hatter's tea house. I kid not.
The Treeby Michael Milligan
That eve had come with needles fragrant green
Crisp winter day to raise the yule-tide branch
Shine bright the lights below that greyish thing
In tinsel canopy where baubles dance.
Gay carols waft from children in the snow
On air though chill not cold enough to mar
The shiver in my spine from words I know
Sound from where most such trees would hold a star.
Be-ribboned gifts in merry wraps abound
This Christmas Santa woke a dreadful doom
Fell shape that fills my head with mad'ning sound
Though 'top my tree it somehow fills the room.
I'd warn the world but solless pierce me through
The ageless pits for eyes of Cthulhu!