Story Concept ----
This story establishes a new, unusual, and amusing creature, which seems oblivious to all but it's own needs and pursuits. It's certain that children will view adults, at times, as exhibiting similar self-absorption and incomprehensible behavior.
It's habits are not destructive and it focuses on a primary desire to read.
The attitude of the narrator is one of concession and not confrontation - e.g. "I've always been taught, when someone is reading, not to disturb with something I'm needing."
"It never has, really, acted the pest. No reasons have I to complain of my guest."
(As an illustration, the creature sits in a laundry basket reading and the narrator does not wish to interrupt him - even when he must do his laundry. The creature is turning all colours of the laundry, camouflaging with polka dots, stripes, checks, etc.)
Amusing illustrations are proposed, such as the creature standing on the roof reading in silhouette, during a full moon.
or
" in the dark, upside down, in the closet, in the hall."
(the only things visible when looking into the dark closet are: two white eyeballs, part of a book, and white sneakers - with everything upside down)
Knocking, upon the front door,
it was an unexpected visitor.
With the door swung wide open, to have a good look,
there was some thing there, and it carried a book.
Covered with fur, only two feet tall,
it looked so worried, and was so small.
A letter and card was all that it shared.
It stood there and stared,
all alone and quite scared.
The letter was clear; an old friend sent him here,
asked if I'd help, and was very sincere.
The card was more puzzling, than not.
It was a library card, with a marmalade spot.
So, I invited it in, wishing not to offend,
an invitation to stay I did freely extend.
What I didn't know then, but I do know today,
once at my front door, it had planned a long stay.
It's time was spent reading; mostly, that's what it did,
except for collecting marmalade lids.
Some other habits were very strange too.
Always, I could expect something new.
It had a fond liking for my grandfather clock,
which it stared at for hours, tick-tock, tick-tock.
On Thursdays, it walked up and down in the hall,
trying to look as if it was tall.
It's colour would change, it always seemed new;
One day it was purple, and another day blue.
If the weather was cloudy, it's colour was green,
or sometimes might even be aquamarine.
It had all the kids on our street, up and down,
collecting marmalade lids around town.
I know that they're hidden, all over the place,
even way up on top of the tallest book case.
" It sits on your roof," the neighbours would tell,
" even at night, when the moon is out bright,
it stands at the edges, and balances well."
When I wasn't at home, it would march back and forth,
on the lawn, in the front;
no one was sure, just what it could want.
It would read everywhere, except in a nice chair.
It would read on the stairs, while eating chocolate 'eclairs.
Everywhere it was able, it would even read under a table.
It was really strange, to see, when reading high up in a tree.
And the very strangest of all;
it would read in the dark,
upside down,
in the closet,
in the hall.
I've always been taught, that when someone is reading,
not to disturb with something I'm needing.
I noticed it reading the book, "Peter Pan",
then swing 'round and 'round, by it's toes, on the fan.
It never has, really, acted the pest.
No reasons have I to complain of my guest.
One day it was gone, ended the visit,
and I really don't know why it is that I miss it.
It sent me a card, with wax crayon and ink,
and tried to say thank-you;
that's what I think.
It was, certainly, puzzling and misunderstood,
but will, someday, return to our neighbourhood.
When packing to go, one thing that it did,
was forget all the marmalade lids that it hid.
THE END
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