Leif, The Little Thief.

While Grandpa tells stories and legends to pop,
On how to make all my shenanigans stop,
I skedaddle off quick like a thief in flight
Off to Pandora's, at the dead of night

Fire a pebble at her window, like Romeo might,
"Hey, Pandora," I whisper all low and quiet
"Got another gift for ya!" — under the crescent
A slice of today, a moment, a present.

Princess catches the gift, does me part with a dash
Lays it under the bed, like a piece of art, in her stash
I skedaddle back home — the gift’s been brought
Hills, bridges and roads— whistle tunes Grandpa taught

Morning greets me with a morbid horror
Grandpa, cold and still, dead on the floor.
His jaw locked open — shouting from hell.
Do we have enough lavender to clear out the smell?

Pop's voice, grave, "Seen grandpa's watch?" he asks,
”Ain’t seen it”, I lie, wearin’ my Hood as a mask
Anyway, Pandora, what should I give my girl next?
Momma’s painting? Niece’s doll? what she least expects

While some call me Leif, she calls me Life
We meet on our trysts, by Styx — the river
pinky-promised a vow, as husband and wife
I give and she takes — to cherish forever.