The Elf On the Shelf

This poem is not about me but then my shelf is not a shelf but a tree, so read on and then you will see. I once knew an old Mole who did not like living in a hole. He was so scared of the dark came up through the ground into the park. He looked around missed me completely spoke to a swing, so i said discreetly ‘Hey mate here i am, over here what can i do for you my dear?’ He turned to me asked me the way ‘Hey Moley only if you can pay’ ‘Alas i cannot pay you anything I’m just a senior, a pension I’m accepting’ He then asked me the way to Alice I said ‘She who lives in the palace?’ His answer both polite and courteous ‘Yes indeed, the one I’m to marry’ as he scurried away at stealth speed. I thought to myself climbing back on to my shelf. How extreme this funny old Mole so desperate and with all that soul. Hope old Moley doesn’t mind but Alice is not the marrying kind. A-lice in the palace is a louse living within the fur of an old mouse. A badge holding C.I.A spy trained especially to pry. On those vermin digging holes a death sentence to all Moles. ‘If only Moley had paid this information I would gladly trade!’ There's a moral here somewhere? © Harry J Horsman 2010