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Poem

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

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