Here's my hat.
It holds my head,
the thoughts I've had
and the things I've read.
...
My trousers are tight.
They just won't fit.
And my jumper?
I've grown out of it.
...
This poem is not for children.
Keep Out!
There is a big oak door
in front of this poem.
...
This is the key.
The mystery key.
The key to what?
I'm not
quite sure.
I wonder what
this key is for?
Let me see.....
could it be:
the key to the door
of a treasure store?
the key to a lid
where things lie hid?
a secret box
with magic locks?
the key to a cupboard,
a closet, a drawer?
I wonder what
this key is for?
When I find it
I'll unlock it,
but meanwhile keep
this key
in my pocket.
...