Hidden
Inside a "rock" that's very fake,
We hid our extra key
And there it sat with real rocks 'round
Beneath a nearby tree.
We've never used it; all the same,
It's comforting to know
It's always there, though sometimes topped
With leaves or rain or snow.
A landscape crew came by last week
To neaten up our land.
Today we saw the work they did
And they deserve a hand.
Except those stones all disappeared,
With mulch piled there instead.
The missing rock with key
Made paranoia rear its head.
They'll break into our house, I thought,
Since often we're away.
Of course they'd recognized
That plastic rock where real ones lay.
But then I got my trusty rake
And moved that mulch around
Until my bogus rock (with key!),
Surprisingly, I found.
A jump to a conclusion
Often's quite a foolish thing
And isn't worth the stress and worry
That it tends to bring.
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