Up in the attic, dark and still,
is where the thing occurred.
Within an old green toy box
a little something stirred.
Was it Sandy, that old doll,
whose ringlets once were pruned?
Was it Ben, the teddy bear,
whose ear was chewed and ruined?
Was it Lance, the gallant knight,
whose sword was lost outside?
Was it Beth, the baby doll,
who once — both laughed and cried?
Was it Dutch, the wrinkly dog,
who barked with just a squeeze?
Was it Fluff, the fuzzy cat,
who made his owner sneeze?
Had a toy been brought to life
by magic in that house?
Don’t be silly! Use your head!
What stirred was just a mouse!
The Lonely Meatball 
Just a mouse! Never!! It‘s definitely the toys… lol
Love this!
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Steven King kind of ruined the idea of toys coming to life for me. I think we’re safer with the mouse.
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Ha! Stephen King ruins everything (and I at one point was a huge fan of his!)
The Toy Story series redeems it and since I’ve watched them all— Oh, I don’t know 500,000 times (thanks kids!) — I just have to believe it’s both. The toys were trying to catch the mouse. 😂
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Well, I lived in a house where we had mice and came to appreciate our cats.
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Yes, but have you seen the size of the mouse!
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Had Steven King written the poem, we’d definitely have to worry about the size of the mouse, but I’m a mild-mannered Canadian so there is no need for any concern.
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