[WARNING: Due to the excessive nature of the poet, reader discretion is advised. ]
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A man with a fan had a date with the can
of tomatoes on his kitchen floor.
He grinned, then he spinned in the wind when he pinned
A sign on his open door.
A lad who was sad 'cause his pants were of plaid
Walked along by the man's old house.
He saw through the straw the sign and in awe
The lad turned into a mouse.

The sign, quite benign, had a spine made of twine
While it hung on a nail by the fence
All alone with the man on the phone, it was known
That a man like him was quite dense.

Well the sign, with a whine, pinched the twine of its spine
And fell to the concrete street
It flopped when it dropped as a cop made a stop
At the front door of dear Miss Sweet.

Miss Sweet, once discrete, had a thing for Ole Pete
Who lived nextdoor to her cat.
She sighed,as she cried, almost died when she tried
To climb his roof like a rat.
Of course, like a horse, it has legs; with remorse
She forgot she had 2 legs less.
Well she fell, in a well that did smell, so she yelled
And ole Pete came out in a dress.
Now here, I confess, in this large gender mess
That ole Pete wore an old bath robe.
Miss Sweet, with her feet, in defeat, tried to greet
The man with a friendly,"Hello."

The man, with the can, was a fan of the bland
Heard the voice of a scary ghost.
So he ran (with his fan) to the house where the can
Had awaited for this moment most.
Miss Sweet, then discreet, had weeped like a sheep
For her superman had fled
But the man, with the fan, grabbed the old rusty can
And made a phone out of twine and thread.
Alas, for the lass that the man missed her blast
From the murky well by canon
He returned, unconcerned, till the ghost he had learned
Had escaped to the town of Brandon.

Well today, on his way to the house made of hay
The cop broke the sign in half.
"OH MY GOD!" said a dog, who had slept on that log
When the cat had started to laugh.

Miss Sweet saw the street where the cop, in defeat
brought the sign to the woman's house.
But far away from the frown of the town, way on down
In the well, was the small brown mouse.
He squeaked, then he peeked in the phone that did reek
Of age (or of murky flies).
Ole Pete, with a beat, he got up to his feet
Heard a sound of a ghost, what surprise!

He ran with his fan and the can of the man
To the well where he'd meet his sweet.
Miss Sweet (incomplete) brought the sign to Ole Pete
But the house was so quiet, so alone.
As she passed by the well where that night, she once fell
She saw Pete with his makeshift phone.
She cried, with a sigh,"Hello!" like a bride
And Pete turned around with surprise.
He ran with the fan and the can in his hand
And held her like she was his prize.

So there was his ghost, a woman, lady-host
Of his deep dark treasure well.
And so, that's enough of a tale long and tough
Of the mouse that broke the spell.

*squeek*
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Good gravy. Never again. x_X I apologize for my excessive rhyming. May I never rhyme again. XD (haha, that's...not going to happen anytime soon. ) I'm really liking this nonsensical poetry...I should really stop that too. o_O; *sobs* I'm a freak!

Leah