Through a Tiny Window

Through a tiny window,

I see a tiny man.

He cooks a tiny omelet

In a tiny frying pan.

He eats his tiny breakfast,

With his tiny fork and knife,

Then turns his head to smile

As he greets his tiny wife.

I watch in fascination,

As they dance around the room,

Where a tiny little jukebox,

Plays a tiny little tune.

Then she washes tiny dishes,

And sets them out to dry.

She brings his tiny overcoat,

Adjusts his tiny tie.

As he steps out of the doorway,

His eyes connect with mine.

It startles me so greatly,

That I fall on my behind.

I struggle for my balance,

And try to crawl away,

But my limbs begin to fail me,

As I listen to him say:

“Close the tiny curtains!

Bolt the tiny doors!

Lock the tiny children

In the cellar, ’neath the floors!

Grab the tiny shotgun!

And the ammunition stock!

Load the tiny cannon!

Bring the Uzi, and the Glock!

Get beside me, darling,

For this house we both must guard!

God have mercy on us,

There’s a giant in the yard!”