Ode to a Yule Log

`Twas the day after Harbor, some fifty years hence.
The letter in the paper spoke how peace made most sense.

I was snug in my bed when suddenly jolted to a start!
The harsh ringing near my ear made me tear comics apart.

Snatching the phone from its cradle, I asked of the matter.
The neighbor daughter pleaded some "porcelain" patter.

"Help us quickly; Mom's been practicing the lunge.
Can she come right over and take the plunge?"

All was planned so discreetly, our eyes never met.
She requested the liaison be near the front step.

Nothing it seems will stretch true friendship apart,
Unless it's another cry for the "Toilet Bowl Dart"!
                                                                                       
                                                                                         Circa December 8, 1995