Jack of the Inkpot
I dance on your paper,
I hide in your pen,
I make in your inkstand
My little black den;
And, when you’re not looking,
I hop on your nose,
And leave on your forehead
The marks of my toes.When you’re trying to finish
Your i with a dot,
I slip down your finger
And make it a blot;
And, when you’re so busy
To cross a big T,
I make on the paper
A little Black Sea.I drink blotting-paper,
Eat pen-wiper pie;
You never can catch me,
You never need try!
I leap any distance,
I use any ink,
I’m on your fingers
Before you can wink.