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Welcome to Wykalbrisk Workshop, a place for all the freaks, geeks, misfits, madpersons, and monsters to find weird and wonderful treasures. Everything we produce is 100% handmade with a lot of care and a touch or two of magick.
Amid the song of the wicker wack trees,
Where the bingy grass grows and buzz the blue bees,
Where crisp blows the breeze that makes the hare sneeze
And high in the sky glows the sundry disc,
In the woodland shadows lives the whimsical Wykalbrisk.
Feasting on berries and cherries and tea cakes with fairies,
Trifles and trundles of honeycomb triskets,
Bubblies and baubles of seltzer biscuits,
Quick is the Wylkabrisk and bounding with tricks,
With a coat of fur and ears that prick.
Eyes that sparkle and a tongue that is purple,
It laughs and sings in a voice that wibbly warbles.
But who can really say what lay out by wicker wack way,
The globose beast that in the golden hay plays.
Friend or foe is the giant fellow with paws that squash and nostrils that bellow?
Shall you take your lantern and come with me,
The two of us together we’ll see.
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-B.L. Hardgrove