Beswitched

One night asleep by my bookcase,
I sat nose-deep in a book,
I woke to a clatter, a whispery chatter,
I froze, listened and looked.

Letters! They danced all around me,
scurried and bustled about,
one book to another, one page to the other,
A party? I had to find out!

Beswitched! Beswitched! They came out at night
to shimmer and shake in the silvery light.

I swear the letters changed places,
I watched the busiest ones—
N switched with C, H with a D;
It seemed like oodles of fun.

Fish made a cleverish switch
to became a beautiful Dish
You see, when they served it,
entree’d or hors-d’oeuvred it,
the Dish was really the Fish.

Beswitched! Beswitched! They came out at night,
to shimmer and shake in the silvery light.

On said to Un, “I’m not switching!”
A prefix won’t be my disguise.
I stick to my clan,
whenever I can.
I’m a small preposition, but wise.”

At sunrise the frolicking ended,
the letters plunged, jumped and leaped,
into books on my shelf,
I could read by myself,
later, after I sleep.