There goes the neighbourhood

Ah, if we lived in such a building
would about it we enthuse
what would its name be I wonder
surely "The Druids Mews"
It would be made of paper mache
chopped up from much old prose
light and quick to build with
in case dropped on sandalled toes
each door and window different
to suit each tenant there
to range from the sylph like elf
to great big furry bears
the stairs have inlaid letters
and would oft pronounce the word creak
so as you walked upon them
each one could quickly speak
and when no one was climbing
the stairs would talk unto the walls
Ceilings would remark briefly
as they argue with the floors
In all this noise and chatter
a cacophonyn of sound
pen would jump to paper
so that new words could be found
the sky would rain old vowels
as down consonent gutters they flew
to the constant low burbling sound
of a, e, i, o ,u
Sofa's would be made of old  verbs
cushions of old nouns
foot stools made of adverbs
and televisions from weird pronouns
It would jut out over water
though that be rather queer
and tenants would take moonlit walks
upon the onomatopoeia
All religion would be seen there
a multi languaged congregation
what would their hymn's comprise of
why, surely alliteration
so if you like the building
please come and look around
then close the door with care as you leave
as the doorknob is sleeping sound