In a quaint Delos, so festive and bright,
Lived a mischievous merchant, who was a delight.
His name was Faerum, a mischief maker, you see,
Always fondling things, as playful as can be.

With golden scales and a twinkle in his eye,
Faerum set out, bidding Delos goodbye.
He skipped off to Cyrene, where he became a Sentry,
After begging the Outriders to permit his entry.

He tangled their tinsel, and jingled their bells,
Toppled the snowmen and wreaked wintry hell.
In the cover of night, he sneaked into their homes,
Fondled things in their stables, and then blamed Lodi's gnomes.

But as the days passed, and Logosmas neared,
Faerum felt something strange, and a little bit feared.
A longing inside, a homesick regret,
For the warmth of the Merchants, he couldn't forget.

Through snow-covered forests and icy terrain,
Faerum trudged back to Delos, his heart filled with pain.
He missed Mistress Eloeth teaching him lessons after lessons,
And sitting at the bar for late-night gab sessions.

With each step toward Delos, the regret grew more clear,
The joy of mischief now replaced by happy tears.
He yearned for forgiveness, for a second chance,
To prove his value beyond coin and finance.

The Merchants awaited, with open arms wide,
As Faerum returned, with his mischief set aside.
He embraced his kin with a heartfelt hug,
Realizing the true meaning of family, snug as a slug.

For in the spirit of giving, in the love that abounds,
Faerum discovered the magic of Logosmas knows no bounds.
Nothing could compare to the joy he now felt,
In the arms of the Merchants, where his true heart dwelt.

So remember dear Faerum, while you're off on your tryst,
Here in Delos we have what you've missed.
Logosmas is about forgiveness, and cheer,
And the joy of returning, to Merchants held dear.

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Aeguary, in the year 934 AF.