The Nutmeg Addict

When last I heard the forlorn call of lost and leery foes
I held a keg of milk and egg as people nearly froze
An early winter storm blew in of fierce and lashing tongue
And hindered us from finding where the mistletoe had hung
The sleigh bells broke and rang no more, the carpenter went home
As fabled hopes had sang and soared, a harbinger to roam.

When dazzled little midnight specks of starlight sky did fall,
The magic of the festival had glowed throughout the hall
Songs of folklore and of myth had been wrapped in sweaters warm
As babies born in snowy fields were left for God to mourn
The townsfolk came and made their peace with sunny manner still
As the crippled old Nutmeg Addict saw his spirit killed.

Hypocrites and malcontents were the first to then speak up
And wrest then from the Nutmeg man his psychedelic cup
With twisted grins, these empty men then moved with hate and spite
And the town watched still in sin the Nutmeg Addict’s fight
The haggard hazardous old man was pried from winter’s seat
And soon they threw him into the frigid crystal street.

As Christmas gifts and vicious lips spoke of the Nutmeg Man
Viscous quips and mistresses discussed then the New Year’s plan
The murderers and riot mob would round the city block
And with some luck they’d single out the hanger of the socks
For this small town with all its little brownstones in a row
Was beholden to a Devil who dwelled within the snow.