Through the keyhole,

I see such lovely dirt

With sprigs of grass growing.

Through the keyhole,

I see gray slats of boards

That make a porch.

Through the keyhole,

I see the fine Italian shoes

Of a man who's ringing my doorbell.

If I bend a bit,

I can see his trousers

And the tail

Of his blue coat.

And now, quite suddenly,

Through the keyhole,

I see his eye looking back at mine,

And this is quite embarrassing,

For I was trying to hide.

But now, I see,

That he sees me

Through the keyhole!

What an audacious thing for him to be!

Someone who peeps at other someones,

Right through their own keyholes!

-jenn