“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.