“Bah Humbug” on his Christmas Hat.
A black that shines in the pale light.
A hat that only fit him just once.
Now it needs tape to stay up right.
Grumpy little smile.
Scaly little feet.
Stopping around the tiled floor.
Looking for a bite to eat.
My sweet baby Timothy.
Nothing pleases you so.
I try to give you hugs and pets.
You hiss tells me “No!”
It’s been three years since you hatched.
How did you get so big?
You a pickier than a human child…
Would you like to try a fig?
Lazy, moody tortoise.
You’ve mastered counting sheep.
You leave your room to explore at first light.
Only for a new place to sleep.
Christmas day has come at last.
You could care even less.
You plow through new obstacles in the way.
And leave behind a mess.