Spring Into Action


The human's pen is no more,
the spring skidding across the floor.

Rolling, glinting, shining bright,
the metal coil in my sight.

No! the human shouts my name,
her letter swiftly down the drain.

I run, I jump, I leap in the air,
the human--no match--stands and stares.

The metal spring in my grip,
running fast, giving the human the slip.

A place to hide, a place for safekeeping,
look left, look right, no humans are peeking!

I stash the coil with my small felt mouse,
my favorite place in the whole house:

My treasure trove within a tear,
right under the human's favorite chair!

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