Pickled Smiles

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On a day when noon came before dawn
And my lunch, a book sandwich, was bought with a yawn.
I walked across tables, resting in soup
For the city was wide where it didn't droop.

Her name was Melingy and her eyes were quite large.
I asked if she'd see me and how much did she charge.
"I need a thing that I cannot go get.
It's here on this note since I tend to forget."

I took her note and read it aloud
And found myself in the blur of a crowd.
The note did shrink and now only read
"Find me the thing I need for my head."

I looked around and saw many stores
But one caught my eye, the Open Drawers.
The place was quite small and needed a clean
Yet the place one would go to get to be seen.

I asked at the counter, "What have you for faces?"
The answer, an echo, "What kind of places?"
"A woman whose head needs something of note."
"How about this fine thing, a blue fish-scaled boat?"

"How about not and how about that?"
I pointed to a jar half under a hat.
"It's my own special brew, known for many miles
I think you've been sent to fetch pickled smiles."

I bought them right quick and ran to her store
But it was larger and grander than it was before.
She stood there, waiting, a frown in her eyes.
"You're late, and I'm tired. Please give me my prize."

She opened the jar and ate the whole lot.
"Now I remember what I thought I forgot.
Myself I was lost and inside a pretend,
And a dream of a lie that hasn't a mend."

Then a smile and a thought brought soft from a dream.
A twinkle of a star with one perfect beam.
Like a beautiful flower, a dancer on a pin.
Forever she remembered how to give, love, and grin.



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