Tiny

I do remember how I got here,

Through a lot of panic, a lot of fear,

Through the garden,

Past the door,

Scurrying down on the floor,

Only to be captured,

By someone, whose walls had me enraptured.

Unawares, I strolled among the daisies a-bloom,

Drenched by the occasional drop of dew,

Halting only to meet, Mrs Ladybug, by the giant mushroom.

Engrossed in her scandalous tale,

The nearby barking I noticed to fail.

Panting, was what I could hear,

And whatever it was,

It was near.

A single dew drop acquainted itself with my head.

It was oddly slimy,

Looking up, I saw a nose,

Wet and black and shiny,

Accompanied by giant paws, that were oddly grimy.

The Destroyer.

Among my folk, the legend goes,

Said to taint the houses,

With a yellow sort of rain,

And then the mentioned little houses,

A dirty sort of smell they gain.

Unwanting to be sullied,

On foot I set off straight,

To the forbidden, frosty fortress,

Past the iron gate.

Past the doggy door flap,

Past an open room,

Past a cheesy mousetrap,

Into a colourful cocoon.

A gasp of surprise is what I could hear,

And whatever it was,

It was near.

Into the room I stumbled,

In front of me, stories gracing the wall,

Tales of rainbows,

Tales of ponies,

My eyes just darted to and fro,

In awe.

Suddenly of a gleeful smile,

I caught a flash,

And jammed over me was a jar,

With a smash!

I was trapped here,

In this prison of glass,

Of transparency,

My panic obvious,

For curious wide eyes,

To look at me,

An insect,

A Lilliputian,

Tiny.