You find an empty lake house
In the middle of the night.
When the owners return
You declare squatter’s rights.

The snake patrol slithers in.
You smack them with a pan!
The mayor’s in a panic.
(That was his only plan.)

You tell the owners, “fluff off.”
Their home belongs to you.
Word travels of your conquest.
More critters want in, too.

The lake homes are overrun
With birds, mice, bugs, and bears.
You look out your window.

Finish the stanza:

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