Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf,
Out of the rain to shelter himself.
Under the toadstool, sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse all in a heap.
Trembled the wee Elf, frightened and yet
Fearing to fly away lest he get wet.
To the next shelter-maybe a mile!
Sudden the wee Elf smiled a wee smile.
Tugged till the toadstool toppled in two.
Holding it over him, gaily he flew.
Soon he was safe home, dry as could be.
Soon woke the Dormouse-“Good gracious me!
“Where is my toadstool?” loud he lamented.
-And that’s how umbrellas first were invented.
(Oliver Herford)
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Based on Topics: Home Poems, Smiling PoemsBased on Keywords: dormouse, toadstool