The Letter, 1660

These rustling humans, how they jabber! With their smudged and crinkling ink dabber I lie here resting while their investing Their moments in this blabbered pestering I've seen their pages scribbled in rages Of inspiration by their sages I hear the parchment, crisp and crackling, Depicting marks pronounced in cackling And wheezes of a breezes sighs Read in secret by her eyes Here in this secluded corner This one was sent by a foreigner The rounded man, all clad in fur, Hears some code, it makes him stir The thinner man sprouts in his chair Which creeks beneath his squirming dare The glamour creature, thin and frail, Seems neutral about the true tale I hear a fist pound on the table Shouting that this could be a fable "What if it's true?", the other asks While in fascination he basks They analyze it for a clue, This letter, to learn if it's true The chamber, while closed, is secret, airy While echo's this secretary The scribbled riddles held in hand Are esteemed to be so grand I might chew them if I could For I bask in my puppy-hood