There in a workshop so filled with such wonder
gadgets and trinkets which one might pilfer and plunder
Amid suits of armor, swords, a trove of toys and tomes
she's fearful of kids who might destroy her home
for as they frolic and play, they cause such dismay!
they knock over plates and for them offer no pay!
so Elle scans the halls with a precision sharper than laser's sight
eyes almost beaming as she carves through the hazy light
searching for anomalies, any displacement
Glinting gold statuettes shining prismatic
carrying a tray of faberge as she climbs to the attic
dusty, musk scented, she slides with the platter
and places it atop stalwart desk, she smiles with some laughter
then swiftly she returns back and down the side of the ladder
her feet touch the floor as she hears the silence of matter
standing idle, undisturbed, but her mind is racing
"Time is wasting!" she reminds her paintings
and shuffles to the window and its golden glow
the sun setting high over the hills, she knows it so
feathery plume in hand, combats her olden foe
the dust that settles as the years progress
she cleans it all spotless, a mirror's fluoresce
reflecting the room and all that's near to her chest
her fluttering heart steady throbbing and thumping
but nearly stops dead as something from the top comes'a'tumbling
warm, rosy cheeks wet from tears as she stops at the dumpstert
one single casualty, a ceramic ball she had dropped
an unforgivable sin, as it seems
but she holds imprisoned her screams
again silently through the door and back up into her dreams.