Found it on the soil

All dirty and wet

I grasped the handle

It was tarnished, yet

-

The clapper still worked

And it chimed for me

A quick, little shake

It rang splendidly

-

I took the bell home

And wiped off the mud

Elegant indeed

Without all the crud

-

Clearly an object

Of such style and grace

Deserves prominence

On my grand bookcase

-

But on Christmas Eve

I shall take it down

Wait for carolers

Who live here in town

-

When those brash, blithe fools

Come up to my door

I shall show them what

My bell is used for

* * *

Author's Note: I used exactly 100 words in this poem, five syllables per line, and an abcb rhyme scheme. I was inspired by the drabble, and did you see what I did there, with the title?

I found this online about Drabble:

~~~ Traditionally, a drabble is a piece of fiction that is exactly 100 words long. However, it is not uncommon for people to label any extremely short piece of writing a "drabble". This is known to irritate some readers, while others consider the distinction unimportant. ~~~

I had to laugh at that. I would undoubtedly be one of those irritated readers.