I arrive after bells and vanishing snow, Dressed in greens that the cold won’t know. They toast my coming with lights and cheer, Yet I belong to a quieter year. You’ll seek me in holly, hearth, and ring, But I’m not a holiday

Old becomes new in a cyclical dance, Transforming waste for a second chance. From bottles of plastic to cans of aluminum, Save resources, help the planet and have some fun.

I’m crucial for life but too much can cause it’s end. A common mineral found in homes and exists where the waves bend.

Some claim these aren’t real. It took Alfred Hitchcock to make them scary. Spelled differently, they turn, turn, turn

A hippie, a smartie, a couple, the crew. Fighting against monsters, liars, and voodoo. Along with a dog that has a penchant for snacks. These young detectives are always on the scene. Hop along and join their mystery machine.