There was a magic mouse hole,
when I grew up.
It had been drawn, 
by an older sister,
when she was little.

It lived on the other side of a chimney,
drawn in white,
between the bricks.
Later another sibling 
drew a door to go with the mouse hole.

While we all read Narnia
and the Lord of the Rings
That magic mouse hole sat
waiting for someone to slip in the key.
I know I did.

On the other side,
I saw seven set of foot prints,
each going off to their own adventures.
I can only guess where they went,
given where they ended up.

I could always tell when they had visited,
because the next day,
they would have that far away look in their eyes,
and their minds would start wandering,
finally their feet did to. 

Eventually a bookshelf was put, 
in front of that hole and door.
It, however, did not help because,
you could always tell,
when someone had visited the other side.

Long years later,
We sold that house.
I made sure however,
to leave that mouse hole and door,
for the next children in that house.