Letters From Me Heart To The Board Of Sweet Grace
Grace’s Council — Open...
One fine day, a little dit of a field-mouse, so tiny and meek, an avid reader of letters came to a freeze; dry-iced to her fav’rite spot at Grace’s library. As her teeny wee heart echoed her beat, she got stuck in a motion-less world, stuck in an emotion-filled peeve.
Perplexed, unable to move, fear struggling to breathe, she vexed, “No cause to alarm, but I feel in my heart something enormous’ a-fright, for my feet cannot scurry, my floorboards cannot whisker; no longer my words flow effulgent shimmery, bright…my tail can’t turn tales…alas, I’m unable to write!” What to do…what to do’!
Mieces to pieces and still like a statue, like a megrim pain from a game of chess, little ditty field-mouse cradled her head; begged a lament: “Set me free O grace from shadows leery great depths, a solid storm mass that serves a fair weight upon my Ditty fair chest.”
Ditty FM tuned in to her red-coated breast. Expelled an appeal; to feel a new beat of mellow emotion. “I beg, I beseech; no I scream to explore, some beast of a thing to be feared ever-more — stuck, in a motion-less void, I’m afraid poor sweet e is missing in action! By-pass the chance, have you seen her pure vowel? Privy may you check when she was seen last on board...it remains to be seen how I can first play this game of endless no traction!”
Elated? no. Because all Ditty field-mouse received in vain was the sound her heart made on repeated refrain — a thumping great thump of a demented great beat. Without an e for her effort, all she could speak amongst her migraine pain of a beast was…
“Sh.”
Disheartened little mouse, thinking her fruit turned to seed, skimmed her alphabet book from the shelf of her council libr’y; hellbent was Ditty to locate e not between ‘f’ nor ‘g’ nor adhered to the date of historical A.D. but between d and f and wayward B.C.
“Oh dear, d and f, something’s oratorically wrong! My word is my ache I‘m f-frozed in one place. Eeek! — pray help me now, even my tense is goned wrong! For e’s sake, I need to speak to the board of my beloved sweet grace?!… I seek good news post-haste; dear d,f,n,g have you seen e?… I did beseech my heavy thump of a heart but all she pith’d to saith is…
“‘Sh’.”
Letters d and f did eye-spy the dense Dumbo in house and in unison urged, "Shhhh! Be still! Be quiet Ditty mouse! e’s right here! Don’t you see the thumping great Elephant in front of room between us?! — do each of us a favour little DFM, Don’t Forget ‘Me’, at the heart of Ditty–for she’s your blessed council, will always speak true, turn up to best your greatest, next move."
The end?
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