A gift,
from the Emerald Isle,
home to Mr. Thirteen himself;
deputized
with a badge of light
in the darkness he dwells.
In the mundane
this youth blossoms yet,
hourglass sands fail
to mark accurate date
of his spirit's birth.
Mr. Congeniality treks
poetry pages armed
with bolts of quick wit to jolt
the numbest of funny bones.
Cunningly charismatic
he creeps, hidden beneath
a cloak of invisibility, ready to stun
unsuspecting poets with his
electrifying personality.
As howls echo through the trees,
the newest member of the pack
runs with the best
in search of those in need,
lost in this vast forest of poetry.
Adding your comment:
It fits our Phil to a tee. 
Dee
Just teasin ya Phil 
