Seasonal And Holidays Past Journal

A Visit With Fuzziwig

If I flip the pages of time on back
to where I might be found on a London day
hammering down a wintry shadow like a tack
in the deep foreign snow, then I can make my way

through a sea of petty thieves, who share
their guilt with the priggish impossible Fuzzywig.
He flaunts his wealthy moneybags with a scare,
cursing his affairs with a selfish jig.

He stops just once to deter Tiny Tim,
as I follow him to his bedside in my mind,
the next thing I know he's asleep on a whim
that he's a penny-pinching old man none care to find.

Suddenly, I see a candle has burned its wick
and Fuzzywig's jumped up with an astonished look.
I ask for the chance to see him come quick,
with the visions from the bedroom in a book

with the presence of a merciless ghost
who takes Fuzzy into his horrible past.
Thus, I'm told to heed the signs of his Christmas
host,
and watch old Fuzzywig closely as he's been cast.

I revere in his words while he aches for his life,
ruined by stubbornness and doomed by hate
for the poor boy Cratchet and his young wife
as his dread turns to Tiny Tim's unfortunate fate.

After Fuzzywig awakens from the last ghost's grace,
I find a dated picture of Fuzzywig staring
down at himself dressing.
I can't believe I'd seen his haunting face,
as his fingers stiffened and raw
have written down, "My Christmas goodwill this
year, must surely carry everyone a blessing!"

"Fuzzywig, Fuzzywig,", I think to myself,
"I'll do my very best, if nothing else."

Out of the dark, to take me home that night,
an angel flips a coin and hastens me with fare for my return.
I must have seen window candles flicker in the light
as I see mine up ahead of me beaming its burn.