Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Amy’s little shop of
Imaginary beings
Sits on a corner
Hardly ever seen

All her advertising
Is done by word of mouth
You’ll never find her shop
Unless you’ve heard it said

Amy’s little shop of
Imaginary beings
Is just down the street
Where the cats seem to scream

The site seems most haunted
Every day and night
Most people turn away
It gives them quite a fright

She sits and sells her goods
To all who have seen’em
All who enter are surprised
At all her little beings

She never does them wrong
Or charge them too much
But they all say her shop
Is just out of touch

With everything around it
With all of the decor
With all of the lighting
Even her front door

The door makes a screech
When opened day or night
Some it doesn’t bother
Some jump in fright

People walk in gingerly
Trying not to make a sound
Trying not to disturb
The beings all around

Her imaginary beings
Sit upon the shelves
Everything from serpents
To ornery little elves

All are kept in order
From the ceiling to the floor
In Amy’s little shop
Things never appear poor

All are made to obey
Their masters voice that day
As each one is sold
Every one is named

She doesn’t use magic
To influence or coerce
People come from all around
The four corners of the earth

Everyone wants a little
Something quite unique
Young or old doesn’t matter
It could be newborn or antique

She has been selling her wares
For longer than most have been alive
Yet her humble abode
Looks like no ones inside

She’s been feeling her age
Through these many years
Looking for a way out
But trapped by her fears

That encircle and ensnare
That cause her great despair
That make her long for
Freedom true and fair

One of these days
She may yet retire
But until that day
She’ll just sit by the fire

Mellow and small
Smoking her pipe 
Dreaming of the day
This curse will fall