It’s Saturday morning. I’m soon to make my son his favorite Saturday breakfast, pancakes, but today, just maybe, he’ll want a bit more.
If you’re to attract the finest of friends,
the stones must be smooth, as smooth
as robins’ eggs and as deeply blue.
Ogres refuse to swallow jagged stones
and most sprites are partial to heaven’s complexion.
Serve it hot on cloudy mornings, a bit cooler
when the sun shines. Trolls enjoy sprigs
of dandelions flavoring their feast, while leprechauns
insist on clovers, well grounded, four leafed.
Goblins will bring honey to sweeten your pot
singing melodies of dark places, shadows
and caves. Now go. I said go and search
for those stones, the smooth ones, like eggs,
with a deepish blue hue. Set the water to boil
and listen for songs. It’s your friends,
hungry friends, waiting there by your door.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Me Time.”