I'm crawling around on my hands and knees
Coaxing with rulers and tempting with cheese
And moving each moveable thing in the house
Trying to save a poor little mouse.
I'm sure the mouse doesn't want to be here,
My cat was the one who had the idea:
She presented it to me with obvious pride
Then poked it about till it ran off to hide.
I shooed the cat out with a flea in her ear
But the mouse doesn't know that I'm nothing to fear
So he hides in the corners and under the chairs:
I don't stand a chance if he gets under the stairs.
Mice can run fast, as I have now found,
And they don't always keep their feet on the ground
For just when I've got him what does he do?
He jumps through the air like a kangaroo.
For three hours I've been on my hands and knees
And I'm losing my patience and I've run out of cheese
So I've let the poor cat back into the house
In the hope that she'll help to get rid of the mouse.
But what does she do? She treats me with scorn:
She has a good wash, a stretch and a yawn
And heads for the garden as if to say,
'You've taken my toy so get on and play'.
the above work is copyright David Axton © All Rights Reserved