JINGLE WHAT?
a Hannibal poem for Christmas by JetNoir
I stand (and gaze) at
the Behomoth of green in
front of
me…lit as it is
with goldred
A gift from Norway
to the Queen in
her palace of stone
A thousand miles away
my friend sits, her
eyes on the ring – which resides on
her finger: my
Other friend lies
six feet beneath
my feet. Three tears
clinically, fall from my
cheek as I say goodbye.
Goodwill on Earth and
Peace to all Men.
Jingle all the way.
With bells on.
Note: This is a strangely bitter poem, set post novel. I hope you enjoy it, and may I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!
Disclaimer: Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the poem to me. This poem has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!
JetNoir