A KeePer Christmas

So, I wrote this little Christmas free verse story in honor of all the lovely people here… *bows* I tag @hope @kate-flournoy @emma-flournoy @daeus @aratrea @the-real-kapeefer @dragon-snapper @ethryndal @rolena-hatfield @brandon-miller And can someone help me with other tags?

 

I had just found out

My flight was canceled.

My feelings were dismal,

Now was my doom.

I was going to fly

To a KeePer Christmas,

Then everything was ruined,

When the snow came.

 

I sat,

Alone,

In front of a tree,

No presents surrounding its base.

I put my hands on my face.

And I thought about crying,

Drowning my sorrow

In ice cream.

Then a knock came,

Then seventeen more,

And I ran to the door,

And opened it.

My jaw dropped

My eyes popped

A crowd of writers

Thronged my porch.

 

At the front stood two Flournoys,

Grinning.

“Merry Christmas!”

The world started spinning.

“Your flight… we heard…

We though we’d bring Christmas to you!”

They handed me a pocket-dragon,

And a silver flagon,

And went in search of cookies.

 

A gangly youth

With towering hair

Stuck out his hand,

“Hi! I’m a Kapeefer!

By the way,”

He whispered,

“That doesn’t rhyme with ether.”

He deposited a present

Beneath the tree,

And whistled away merrily.

I nodded dumbly,

Taking it in,

Slowly.

 

Then in walked the king,

Crown askew,

“Ice cream!” he bellowed,

Waving a spoon,

“And raspberries!

I’m languishing,

And desire nourishment soon!”

I pointed at the freezer,

Forgetting

I didn’t have raspberries.

He dashed off

After proffering

A shining box with a bow.

 

“Excuse me please,”

A shimmering elf

Presented herself,

“You have a shocking lack

Of glitter.”

And she glided past

To pose by the tree,

And place a package under the boughs.

 

A bent head,

Buried in a tome,

Came next.

“I’m Sierra Ret.”

A book,

No wrapping,

Was left with me,

And she disappeared

To finish her own story.

 

Then, a pixie-like figure came

“Mariposa” she cheerfully declared,

“I mean, that’s my name.

But you already knew.

I like dinosaurs.

Do you have gingerbread?”

“Yes.” I said.

She dropped an envelope in my hands,

And promptly raided the kitchen.

 

“Hope you don’t mind my frog.”

A voice drawled.

I turned to see who and from where.

A young man stood there,

A frog perched

On the tip of his wizard’s hat.

“No,” I replied.

“That’s good and that’s that.”

He extended a little box,

And took himself off,

To scan my bookshelves,

To psychoanalyze me

Through my reading choices.

 

A girl appeared,

With fiery hair.

“Hey there.”

She said,

Lifting her cap from her head.

“A present for you.”

She held out a bag.

“Read Brandon Miller’s stuff.

It’s good.

Where’s the food?”

And she whisked away.

 

More poured in;

Evil lords and editors,

People named Brandon and Gracie,

A spatter of artists,

And haters of coffee.

And the pile of presents

Added to every second,

Grew and grew.

Then I brought out my gifts,

And the wrapping paper flew.

With smiles and smirks,

And shrieks of laughter,

It was the very best Christmas

Ever.