Semi-Daily Scribbles

I brandish a bucket of magical seeds
so delicate and rare they must be
planted under cover of moonlight
before the clocks fall back.

The correct mix of mischief and mud
ensures a harvest free of blight,
and by the time turkey falls off the bone,
I'll have a bumper crop of candy to call my own.

What better tonic than chocolate to ward off the chill of a long winter night?