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
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