Nest Eggs

Eggs and toast and something sweet
It’s mostly what there is to eat
At this nest of harmony 
All the trauma parts he’ll treat
While Xoch holds a hand or rubs their feet.

This poem’s as cheesy as the swiss 
Melted over the scrumptious bliss
That nourishes guests who come and see
The loving field so many miss
Attunement like a parent’s kiss.

Now it’s time To end this rhyme
But first, another toast:
To mystery, magic, and mischief 
Constants in this home 

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *