Whispers and Whiskers

In the dark and cold of a night
A rat looked at me in the eye.
She had a pink rose in one ear,
A pink ribbon in the other,
Long, fine, like millions of whiskers,
Small bulbs attached to their ends.

She asked, “Wanna dance, you handsome?”
Chills all over me I yelled “Mom!”
My voice so loud my senses drowned.
Then she snarled—she made my heart pound.
“You can’t yell like that, oh my God,”
Damn rat said it sweet, nonchalant.

“Flee you must, flee you must, coward!”
My nipples sort of said like mad.
In a place and time just like that
Everything soft grows super hard.
You lose all your senses, okay.
But it’s weird tingly all the same.

Then footsteps were heard suddenly;
I wished to hell it was my mom.
The rat who thought pink was pretty
Climbed up the ceiling but fell down.
Up the wall she went back as fast
As her ribbon flew to the ground.

The door banged open oh-so-fast
It brought back my fighter’s spunk.
Believing that mom was around,
I felt braver and then looked up.
But there I found no ratty rat,
And at the door—no mom in sight.

I shouted again, “Mom, you there?!”
My voice real loud, for all I care.
My body grew numb and shivered;
Then I heard a loud flop somewhere.
And there was crash, some glass smashed,
Some scuttling feet outside.

I stood with no thought what to do;
I dashed out, swift, without a clue—
Whom to call, what I was up to—
Then went back right in to my room,
Grabbed my glasses and put them on,
Surprised at how I’d seen it all.

I’m blind without the glasses on
Yet saw the rat, rose, and ribbon.
For a few my mind went berserk
Yet I tried to collect myself.
“Are my eyes cured?” I wished to know.
My God! Oh my! Oh yes! Oh no!

Dazed so badly, out run did I,
Wished I had wings so I could fly.
Near my room’s door I knocked a chair—
It made a racket, raised my hair.
Then rushing down the wooden stairs,
I slipped and fell down to my face.

I don’t know what had come to pass.
When I came to I was surprised
To find myself in a ballroom
Full of rabbits, cats, dogs, and mice,
Whose coats sparkled under the moon,
Dancing, drinking wines, eating pies.

… (to be continued)



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s