THE DWELLER

Teeth, mmm, teeth,
 my precious teeth 

In a grate in the cellar lies,
 a creature called a dweller
Fur all mattered, course,
dull no shine
Well not until it gets his prize

His prize as you have probably gathered
Are teeth, you know
the ones we chatter

So at night when you’re sound asleep
He climbs out on his make shift ladder
He scurries up from the cellar
This creature
that I call the dweller

Tiny feet pound across the bed  
He runs up around your head
This creature that I call the dweller 
Is quite a sneaky little fella

His body is small and fat 
Looks like  a rat crossed with a bat
It’s nose is long, it follows your breath 
It would even take your teeth in death 

So up your cover he will scurry
You wont hear him 
so no need to worry

Little hands pry open your mouth
Black eyes peer deep inside
Looking for his white surprise
 only white teeth are edible 
If you wake, he will be formidable
In his hand, he holds his tool
It might not look much
but don’t be fooled

It’s sharp enough to do his bidding
Pulling teeth to keep him living
Sharp end he then plunges in
Wriggling hard against the enamel

He’s in behind the tooth
he pulls with all his might
He’s not going to give up without a fight
A bit of leverage he uses 
As he bounces up and down
But still this creature called the dweller 
doesn’t make a sound 

With an eerie pop the tooth comes out
and falls onto the bed
Blood drips down from
where the tooth has shed

This master thief has taken his prize
Even  without being seen
He saves  it for a rainy day 
Then eats it to make his coat shine and gleam 

So next time when your sound asleep
listen for that tap, tap ,tap
He might have come for your teeth. 
While you take your nap

This is a polite ask, if you have took the tome to read this poem please be kind and leave a review. thanks jeff