When the night is full of mist
and shooting stars abound,
the oaks begin their slow descent
to Jackamiah’s Pond.
They drink their fill and wash their leaves,
then beckon to the moss
to line up at the water’s edge
and watch the Pathway’s Cross.
At three-past twelve the moon aligns
and shines into the door;
the lumpy toads come from within
and hop down to the shore.
As they jump upon the moss,
the maids that dwell within
alight onto a velvet boat
bound for Jetty Lin.
They stitch a quilt of gossamer
to warm them underground,
and gather sweet forget-me-nots
without a single sound.
All at once a breeze blows through;
the oaks call once again.
It’s time to board the velvet boats
away from Jetty Lin.
They laugh and talk and race a bit,
and as they touch the shore,
transform into the lumpy toads
just like they were before.
The velvet moss returns again
to niches in the log; last to leave,
the weary oaks tread uphill in the fog.
A rosy dawn spreads o’er the crest,
a silken, magic wand…
And all is tranquil for a time
on Jackamiah’s Pond.
Every Day Writer 