In the supermarket there is one aisle
That is my favorite by a mile.
It’s not where they sell sugary snacks,
Soda, cereal or have the toy racks.
It’s near the sponges, past the Kleenex,
A cottony wonder from floor to apex:
It’s Toilet Paper Mountain, in all its glory,
Beside Paper Towel Castle,
which everyone must see.
But for me, I’m afraid, seeing’s not enough.
I have to scale these towers of puff.
Mom and Dad don’t like when I climb,
They put me back in the cart every time.
Then I’m apart from my grocery store friends:
Paper Towel Castle and Toilet Paper Mountain.
And I must turn to plotting for the next time
That to those absorbent summits I can climb.