Merry Christmas from Jarly and Grarg, the comic strip characters created by Dave Bezzina and yours truly. My poem's rubbish but Dave's picture makes up for it:
The world shrugs on a frosty coat of snow,
And a cold wind whispered and cried,
It’s not just nippy, it’s thirty below.
Fortunately it’s warm inside.
Despite the late hour Jarly chooses to study;
The room’s cosy snugness makes it less of a chore.
The glowing fire makes his cheeks warm and ruddy,
He can concentrate so long as Grarg doesn’t snore.
Like any sensible creature at this time of night,
The sleepy little dragon lies all tucked up in bed.
Yet even lightly dozing he has an appetite,
His tail a makeshift toasting fork for a slice of bread.
Jarly ponders the worn ancient, arcane pages,
He seeks to gain the book’s hidden knowledge,
Become as wise as wizards, warlocks and sages,
Even though he never went to college.
In his pursuit to be powerful and bold
He ponders rune and sigil and glyph.
The hot fire prevents him feeling the cold,
His nose doesn’t run, nor does it sniff.
He could use these spells to confound his foes,
But as the candlelight elegantly flickers,
He feels content; no need to tread on toes.
This doesn’t feel the time for taunts, sneers or snickers.
Any old idiot can be a thug, hooligan or bully,
He should try to soothe and try to help.
Roll away people’s troubles with a magic lever and pulley,
Not try to hurt them or make them yelp.
As he arrives at his big decision
Emotions, desires and thoughts all align,
Concepts more complex than long division.
Magic grows within him and begins to shine.
