‘Twas the night before Solstice
And all ’round my bed
Visions of power tools
Whirred in my head.
A shiney new router,
Mr. Skil was the name,
Went purring through wood
Like a moth to the flame.
All the hand tools were hung
On the pegboard with care
With hopes of new Amazon
Boxes to share.
My D.I.Y. partner,
Michael by name,
Created a monster
Who drilled with no shame.
On herb bed, on oak limb,
On MaryLou’s tree:
All will come crashing
‘Round him and ’round me.
As I rolled on my side
To get snuggly and warm,
I heard a voice saying,
“You’re causing me harm.”
“You’re taking my room,
Move over, my dear.”
But humming of power tools
Was all I could hear.
He asked me again,
Sharply poking my back,
So I poked even harder,
Never meant to attack.
Then he fell on his side
And a crash filled the room;
My dream ended suddenly:
I faced certain doom.
But no, he was laughing.
Shaking loud with delight-
He’d had the same dream
On this dark solstice night!