Hanging delicately on wooden bars is the bat

Scurrying underfoot upon concrete floors is a rat

Working away, day by day

Playing with exotic toys and counting coins

Scribbling ink with worked hands

Hoping that this one lands

The candle light blown out

A broad man stands devout

To the prize before, gathered by lore

The bat lands on a shoulder to sniff for treats

A hand reaches down to a pocket of sweets

To a small mouth tasting cherry beets

Stepping out from the cellar

Hearing the jingling chimes of the bellar

Scorching heat of midday, by the ocean bay

Plopping down to find shelter, a hidden hole to the coat

Hiding deep within a small stuffy pocket

Finding a scratched broken locket