’Twas midwinter’s eve, the snow softly fell,
In a house under stairs lived a grump in his shell.
The Elephant-Mouse, with his long trunk and ears,
Sat alone in the dark, as he had done for years.
His house was quite cosy, though cluttered with things,
Old spoons, broken watches, and bright bits of strings.
Each night as he snored, with a rumble so deep,
The forest would tremble, disturbing its sleep.
But this night, through the snow, came a small, muffled cry,
A faint little sound under dark winter sky.
The Elephant-Mouse gave a snort and a snuff,
“Who dares make a racket? I’ve had quite enough!”
He stomped to his door with his trunk in the air,
And squinted outside at the cold, frosty glare.
By the light of the moon, on the glittering ground,
A tiny child waddled, alone and spellbound.
The chick had bright feathers, a rainbow of hues,
A coat of soft fluff in the deepest of blues.
“Are you lost, little bird?” the Elephant said,
“You’ll freeze in the snow, best be off to your bed.”
But the child only shivered and blinked tearful eyes,
“I was left when the bridge closed, it vanished from skies!
I’ve lost all my Pencilquin family and friends,
And I don’t know the way where the rainbow path ends.”
The Elephant huffed, and he stomped round his floor,
“I don’t help with lost things! Now leave, close the door!”
But the chick gave a sneeze, a most pitiful sound,
And the Elephant sighed, “Oh, well, come sit down.”
He wrapped the nestling up in a blanket of red,
And gave them a thimble of soup and some bread.
As the Pencilquin warmed in the Elephant’s care,
A small hum escaped, floating soft through the air.
“What’s that noise?” said the grump, “Did you just make a song?”
“I hum when I’m happy, it helps me feel strong.
My family all sing when we cross through the sky,
But now I can’t find them, I don’t know why.”
The tiny bull frowned as he stroked at his chin,
“Perhaps there’s a way we could bring them back in.
The rainbow bridge opens with magic, I’m told,
A song that is joyful, yet ancient and old.”
The Pencilquin’s eyes lit up bright as a star,
“Then let’s make a song, they can’t be too far!”
The Elephant grumbled, “I don’t sing, not a bit.
But perhaps with my snore… well, we’ll see if it fits.”
They stepped in the snow, to a hilltop so wide,
Where the stars seemed to dance in the heavens’ great tide.
The Pencilquin sang, sweet and light as a breeze,
While the Elephant rumbled with snores that shook trees.
The song rose like magic, a harmony true,
And the sky seemed to shimmer in ribbons of blue.
The forest awoke to their marvellous sound,
And the snow turned to glitter that sparkled around.
Then out of the darkness, a glow came in sight,
A magical bridge, full of colourful light.
The Pencilquins called from the other side clear,
“We’ve found you, dear child! Come close, come near!”
The Pencilquins danced, but they turned back to say,
“Thank you, dear friend, for showing the way.”
“Without your great snores, so loud and so deep,
I’d still be alone in the cold winter’s sweep.”
The little one turned, as the bridge started to fade,
And ran back to the grump, through the snow they had made.
“I almost forgot!” said the child with a grin,
“I have something for you, from my family within.”
From under their feathers, they pulled something bright,
A small golden bell that gleamed in the night.
“It’s a Friendship Bell,” said the child, soft and true,
“When you ring it, we’ll hear, and we’ll come back to you.”
The Elephant sniffed, and he blinked back a tear,
“For an old grump like me, you’ve been awfully dear.
I’ll ring it someday, if I need you around,
But for now, little bird, stay safe and be sound.”
The chick crossed the bridge, and it shimmered, then closed,
While the Elephant-Mouse watched the soft falling snows.
He turned to his house, but his heart felt aglow,
For the bell in his paw gave a warmth he’d not known.
And so in the forest, on cold winter eves,
The Elephant hums as he sits among leaves.
With the bell by his side, and its promise so true,
He hums with the joy of a friend he once knew.