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Best Mouse Poems

Below are the all-time best Mouse poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of mouse poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Don't stop! The most popular and best Mouse poems are below this new poems list.

Man or Mouse or Dog or Cat by Davies, Ivor
The Mouse by Smith, Tim
Bawling Mouse by Jones, Cynthia
The Raptured Mouse by Rix, Gwendolen
That Damn Mouse-Mouse-Scream-Smile-Cinquatrainla- by Jones, Cynthia
Drunken Mouse -Limerick:Monorhyme Combo- by Jones, Cynthia
CAT AND MOUSE by Guyler, Ian
ROLLER SKATING MOUSE by williams, john
Not Even For A Mouse by Eaton, Janet
A field mouse by Atfield, William J. Jr.

View all new Mouse Poems

The Best Mouse Poems

Details | Mouse Poem | |

POOR PETER PUMPKIN

Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.

The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.

Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!

I think it’s time for you to finally go and face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!

“My,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”

Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.

They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.

The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”

Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.

We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat."

Peter trembled with a chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”

He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As  he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!

“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you guys help me!”

Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.

For he ran across a man named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!

10~12~14
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~

More great poems below...


Details | Mouse Poem | |

Hot And Cold Comes The Night


LIST POETRY - A FUTURISTIC INTERPRETATION You must know I cried yesterday and I think I broke the world so I braided some words into twine planted some sweet and sour coated seeds I grew free standing expressions and then I joined them with left over thread to present these interlocking pieces in their proper order regardless of the number they wear in an attempt to confuse and deceive. I offer this humble list for your reading enjoyment It is an honour to have you visit my page. The pleasure I assure you is all mine WORDS ON PAPER - THE LIST FIVE I loved you centuries before we were born. You lived in my dreams before I ever slept. When others wasted time picking flowers I waited for when it was time to pick you. Love calls you in the natural scent of your partner. You'd feel their touch in the vacuum of outer space. Your desire for them would melt away the ice age. I want to find a door in the brightest part of the sky I could open to erase what was, to shine a light so bright it, like a book of golden words, would write ideas so vital as to eradicate even a suggestion of our mournful past. I want to be that magician who does not bother with illusion but rather heals wounds and shatters burden. TWO We were at the fair, joviality in the air. A memory filed, I was a young child holding balloons floating round like full moons in vivid colours bright. Fixed on this joyous sight I was on Cloud Nine proud these were mine. If I had not let go of them. If I hadn't watched them as they flew higher and higher as my heart sunk lower and lower I might of never learnt what it felt like - hurt. Hope gloats, hope floats. either your way or just away. THREE sometimes the afternoon sun is.....too hot to walk barefoot........on the concrete path still even then.......I refuse to wear my hat I guess I'll never change, I'm just like that. sometimes when I jump in the lake in late summer... with all of my clothes on...I do it in the evening......as I go down...way down to the bottom...there's a gentle peace overtakes me..I want to stay down like a rock... revel in the ecstasy...not swim back up..........not ever SEVEN ours was a paper mâché love living in a cut out cardboard home with a macaroni art painted lawn and nothing real to call our own nothing solid that we could hold. we tried stacking lego bricks but you have to be able to pop your cheek to qualify as a kid - to get a license to build. the castle we assembled didn't pass the test. so much for fairy tales - hello reality check. we rolled the dice but our thimble went straight to jail and our mouse ended up trapped. can you hear that buzzing the operation failed. where are you going? your tricycle is still in the shop and I might as well tell you..............I have no eights................."go fish!" we fell through the bunny hole where i - jack fell ddddownnn nnnnnnn and broke my crown and you - jill came tumbling aaaaaaaaaaafterrrrrrrrrrrrrrr EIGHT it is a choreographed ballet our love stands strong legs at the base digging deep build roots delicate hands branched out reach high long slim fingers define twigs draw space the body of our trunk thick sweet filled music fills our human needs one sound wind pixies dance meticulously the air sunlight leaks effectively through dark spots lifts carries holds and shapes our smiles it is a choreographed ballet our love in sync our bodies their senses once immersed in I now us ONE I know the last thing I want to feel as I leave this world, it is your lips on mine. When I take my last breath I want to feel yours with its loving touch. NINE Always, no matter the roar or intensity of the storm how severe the attack even out of the norm Always, i offer my hand with sincerity aim to deal with it peacefully. Always! SIX then suddenly it hits like a swarm of locus. a deep dark manifestation that greases my mind my very existence in its unforgiving sense of doom. every bone stiffens, when I move, a sound of dead dried out forest twigs breaking against the boots of hikers echoes in the confined space of my skull. i reach for a pill slowly it dissolves under my tongue i wait and i wait and i wait ... my body is soaked in a sweat with its own cold and hot tap. i assume the position, lying on an unstable floor. the creature depression is now in full control of my faculties. this too i will survive ...that is what i do...what i do...this is what i do.......somehow i survive. FOUR there is a deafening hush... silently raging through the core of my existence...still...I am humbled by the light and the love I have witnessed in my brief appearance...........here on Earth there is a river...that walks at my side... walks with me........at the same stride... April 14 2015 Armand

Details | Mouse Poem | |

Poor Peter Pumpkin

Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.

The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.

Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!

I think it’s time for you to finally go face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!

“Oh my,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”

Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.

They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.

The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”

Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.

We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat.

Peter trembled and grew chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”

He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As  he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!

“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you both help me!”

Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.

For he ran across a guy named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!


Written by Andrea Dietrich and Jan Allison, for the 
Halloween Co-Writes Poetry Contest of  Diane Locksley

Details | Mouse Poem | |

PHEW WHAT'S THAT SMELL

A smell permeates through the house I’m convinced it must be house mouse I hunt high and then I hunt low But the source of the smell it won’t show I get down on my hands and my knees The dirt and the dust make me sneeze The pungent smell makes me feel sick Burn scented candles right down to the wick Now I have a sad look on my face The origin of the smell I can’t trace Get some cheese and lay it on a trap Wait for the jaws of the trap to go snap But the cheese remains where its put The jaws of the trap don’t snap shut Found hidden in the huge laundry box An old pair of my son’s cheesy socks! Smelly socks are confined to the bin Now I can say to my guests 'please come in'! 13th January 2015 Fictional write for Humor Contest!!! Sponsor Carol Eastman ~awarded 1st place~

Details | Mouse Poem | |

THE OLD OAK TREE


         Oh I am but a simple leaf
         withering within the gutter
         one summer of bliss
         now! Just an autumn flutter.

                   For some; destine to fall
                   upon stony ground, a part
                   of life’s infernal gyration.
                   Yet for those that fall
                   within your reach, to live
                   on within your soul!

         While limbs that stretch
         towards the solstice, create
         vivacious veins as channels of hope,
         a pledge of foliation continues
         to endure what spring has
         furnished; autumn expires. 

                   Yes! If we can but learn
                   from nature’s complex simplicity,
                   that life be of a cycle
                   from the seed we are conceived,
                   then let spring be my beginning
                   winter my exultant eve!

         Let our two cultures
         merge as one, the
         decomposed humus
         to become the sustenance;
         our transfusion the
         new beginning.

                   Let us breathe the
                   fragrance of born again;
                   let each slender limb,
                   stout body bear our
                   tenaciousness, each lyrical
                   leaf our life’s blood.

          Let us mollycoddle each
          precious tear that falls from a
          angry sky; dance gracefully
          upon the wind, embrace
          on moonless nights, bathe
           in summer madness.

                   Let us hear the bluebell call,
                   the daffodil pray, the apple
                   blossom bear witness; the
                   clamour of the field mouse
                   the pitapat of the butterfly
                   the silence of lovers in love.

             Let us be sanctuary to the
             symbolic songstress, scuttling
             squirrel, vulgar urchin;
             a fortress for the warrior
             a haven for the pacifist
             an inspiration for the poet!

 EPILOGUE 

                  The call of springtime
                   we will invoke,
                     logging representative
                      we will gladly choke;
                        nature’s guardian.
                          “This! Obliging old oak.”

Copyright Harry J Horsman 2000


        

         







More great poems below...


Details | Mouse Poem | |

This Is Jack

Yesterday I saw a very creepy mouse, Sneaking right through my front door, He was wearing tails and a top black hat And dragging a large suitcase too When he saw me, he run inside, And past me he sped so fast, Into the kitchen he went in, To a tiny hole, with suitcase and all I tried everything, to flushed him out, From the hole just as fast. I played him music extremely loud; And even called him on his cell phone So I ordered him some cheese pizza, Provolone and jack cheese by the pound, And placed it close, for him to come out and eat, But...he grabbed with him in a flash An email he sent me later on, In which this certain note,to me he wrote: "This's Jack,thank you,for giving me more food, Now I can stay with you, for another three years. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2005 October,19,2014

Details | Mouse Poem | |

Lifeless Eyes of Ted Bundy

Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
No remorse, all emotion had been doused
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
 
He maintained there’d been too much publicity
Four coeds attacked in a sorority house
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
 
This demon had the nerve to make a bogus plea
“Move my trial or there’ll be no justice,” he groused
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
 
To explain news coverage in Tallahassee
Reporters took the stand, court quiet as a mouse
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
 
I took the stand shaking, did not want him to see me
I was sweating so much, wet stains were on my blouse
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
 
It appeared his conscience was totally guilt-free
What kind of excuse could this death machine espouse
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony 
 
*Entry for Catie’s “Villanelle Me” Contest
 
Note:  Serial Killer Ted Bundy successfully convinced the court he could not get a fair 
trial in Tallahassee because there had been too much pre-trial publicity surrounding 
his attacks on four Florida State University co-eds in their sorority house.  After 
Tallahassee reporters were required to testify, Bundy’s trial was moved to South 
Florida.  Bundy assaulted and murdered at least 30 young women, and possibly 
many more, in the states of Washington, Oregon, California, Utah, Idaho, Colorado, 
and Florida between 1974 and 1978. After more than a decade of denials he 
confessed to 30 homicides, but the true total remains unknown.


Details | Mouse Poem | |

A Mouse Family's Christmas

It's Christmas Eve and through the house 
there creeps a curious little mouse.
He climbs into the big arm chair 
and finds the cookies waiting there .
He only takes the smallest bite.
Santa will find his treat tonight.

He gazes with wonder at the tree
and the bright wrapped gifts left there to be
a mystery tale to tell his spouse,
when he gets home, this curious mouse.
What an adventure it has been,
he has drunk of some spilled gin
that had been left upon the table.
His wife will think it is a fable
he has concocted to amuse  her.
She is homebound, we must excuse her.

He once came home all out of breath
to say he had been scared to death
by a huge rat with fluffy tail.
She noticed he was very pale.
"While I was nibbling off some cheese
to bring to you, my love, to please,
he almost had me in his paws.
I'm sure he wasn't Santa Claus".
But this night is so very quiet.
He spies some fruitcake, has to try it.
It reminds him of that sip of gin
and wonders if his head will spin.
He hears a noise, runs for his life,
carrying fruitcake for his wife.

Christmas morning, spread before their eyes
for the baby mice, a grand surprise.
Their mama had fixed a Christmas feast
from food their dad had saved from beast.
A bit of butter, a glob of jam
and a fairly good-sized piece of ham.
Bread crumbs saved from other forays.
They had enough to eat for days.
Those little mice would never waste it.
If they didn't like it, they'd still taste it.
This food their mama set before them,
their dad risked his life to get it for them.

11/22/14

Details | Mouse Poem | |

A Visit From Santa Claus

It was Christmas Eve, not a soul made a sound,
And not so much as a mouse could be found,
The children had hung their stockings on the hearth,
As a quiet, peacefulness gently fell upon the Earth,
My family were all asleep, their heads full of dream,
Of Santa's arrival with his eight reindeer team,

Father in his nightcap, slept soundly in bed,
And Mother in her nightgown of green and red,
When all of a sudden I heard a commotion,
And jumped out of bed with a curious notion,
I ran to the window and pulled open the curtain,
I thought it must be Santa Claus for certain,

New fallen snow shone bright below the moon,
Giving the illusion of daylight in mid afternoon,
I looked out my open window despite the cold,
When a sight met my eyes, wondrous to behold,
A lively, old gentleman aboard a great sleigh,
With eight flying reindeer leading the way,

As quick as a bolt of lightning out of the sky,
He called to each one as they rocketed by,
"Now, Donner! Now, Vixen! Now, Dasher and Dancer,
On, Cupid! On, Blitzen! On, Comet and Prancer,
Leap up to the wall and onto the rooftop,
Dash away all and let us make our first stop!"

They flew through the air with much ease,
Like dry autumn leaves on a sudden breeze,
The reindeer landed so smooth and swift,
Along with Santa and a sleigh full of gifts,

I heard their hoofs pawing upon the shingle,
And joyful laughter from that old Kris Kringle,
I ran downstairs to catch a glimpse of his face,
Just as he came down, out of the fireplace,

He was cloaked in red with a fur trimmed suit,
And covered in soot from his hat to his boot,
A large sack full of presents he carried along,
He opened it up as he hummed a Christmas song,
With much merriment his blue eyes twinkled,
His face was joyful, and yet somewhat wrinkled,

His cheeks were blushed like the berries in holly,
His snow white beard was long and quite jolly,
From his pipe came out a great puff of smoke,
He began his work and not a word he spoke,
Santa Claus was tall, with a belly quite round,
And his laughter was a most glorious sound,

I looked on with glee as a smile crossed my face,
When he approached and gave me a warm embrace,
Then, Santa placed several gifts beneath our tree,
Something for the children, and Father, and me,

He filled the stockings with sugarplums and a toy,
Which I know will delight my little girl and boy,
The midnight hour on the mantel clock chimed,
He turned, then back up the chimney he climbed,

With a whistle he signaled for his reindeer to go,
And away they flew with a hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!,"
Before disappearing Santa exclaimed from his sleigh,
"To all a good night and a Happy Christmas Day!"



(repost)




Details | Mouse Poem | |

What Lurks Within

What Lurks Within

I picture in my mind an old colonial room,
With a door to the garden where my flowers can bloom.
 
A window in the back to see the main house,
A leaky roof and the scurry of a mouse.

Mold on the floor and old bricks in the wall,
And a door in the back to the main kitchen hall.

A stack of hay to the left leading out the front door,
To the gravel path that wraps around to the front porch.

The smell of moisture in the air so damp and so cold,
I can get some water and try to scrub up the mold.

A mat by the door to clean off my boots,
I can get into the car to start my commute.

So much I can picture for this small place,
Nothing to hold back my imagination, but space.


-For Seren’s What Lurks Within Contest

Details | Mouse Poem | |

My Muse, I So Abuse

My Muse, I So Abuse

My muse crying loudly, please write this way
I replied laughing, that will be the day
She storms off in a most indignant huff
I shouting at her, damn isn't that tough?

No fear, she always runs as she returns 
she my heart so loves, as my mind she burns
I, that often sit on cold bed of stones
She, poetic judge that often breaks bones!

Dead of night she cuddles up to me near
utters words, sweet nothings and a cold fear
I inquire, but my heart you love so dear
She shouts, that was a folly from last year!

My muse and I play wicked cat and mouse
She may be the roof but I am the House!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-26- 2014

note: My muse is a vindictive little tramp
she makes me kneel humbly before she lights the lamp!

Details | Mouse Poem | |

And still i drive - part one

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And sadly...i start to drive.
Through the unremarkable village with its tall 
Georgian Bay window panes, lightless,
devoid of visages; outwardly staring back at my 
Abject countenance with detached contempt and utter disdains.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And i start to drive.
But arriving at the brew i am compelled to ease upon
The pressured brake -
For at the slowly closing level-crossing, with its red lantern gate, 
The tolling bell insists i stop and patiently wait.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
As once again i prepare to drive.
At last, in rapid haste, the late commuter train 
Has rattled by -
Within, the snoozing jostled crowds and deceitful 
Drunken brokers that boozily sigh.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall... 
But stars do not lie.
Away now from Littlehamptons smothering, towered,
Blue-stepping climes,
Where, high upon high, wheeling fat-bellied gulls,
With angry squawks, viciously dispute their scavenged finds.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
Motoring downwards to ancient Aruns sheep-strewn 
Meadows and thin grass plains,
Past black flint-knapped walls girdling squat Tudor abodes;
Along the oak and Elm treelined roads and green verged lanes.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Past the dimly lit little ramshackle station where you welcomed
him in;
Here, gently retiring Larkin did once alight to muse at a
Noble Dukes tomb and his boastful castle of hewn grey stone might!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not cry. 
Travelling alongside these thorny lines of Hawthorn hedge,
Where the cunning Stoat and slinking Weasel reside,
That do so ably divide a long forgotten, once bustling,
Feudal countryside.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars shall not deny.
Each side: Fields of Harvest mouse and blackened Vole
Beneath the hushed brown feathered wing -
So rips the sharp beak - so deathly the talon
That swoops upon the heath where brown Linnets sing.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Following the deep sided Rifes where the farmers boy 
In olden days did so joyfully run -
And wade the sharply tinkling shallow Bournes with excitable 
Barking hounds and readied hunting gun.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not lie.
Standing upright, like troops aside their barrack beds,
the ranks of stiffly rattling thatching reeds encouraging 
Spearwort and sedge;
Where the chugging long-legged hens slide across slow glides:
Thus cleverly disguise and hide their speckly eggs.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
And still i drive. Across the hushed and vigilant lands of
Silvery streams
Where glistening otters slumber, safely holted, 
Within their whistling dreams.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not cry.
And still i ride. Past the frozen woods of blasted trees
Sheltering the demure deer shying from night time chill;
And tumbling badgers rolling at ease
Upon dry-cracked carpets of rustling, black spotted, molding leaves.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars shall not deny.
From ancient glade to ancient glade
Where a Gaulic conquerer made an  Anglo-Saxon a slave;
And here this Norman dismounted and stood, 
Domesday within his grasp, his thumb between a parchment page.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Exhorting upon my labouring engine to gain the crest 
of yet another leaping hill;
Below: the globular luminosities blobbing within the sleeping hamlets -
Narrow cornered streets dwindling within misted frills so vacantly stilled.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Accompanied by the gleeful, ever gurgling sounds
That wend their way down the sloping downs
To unselfishly feed the constant demands of the neat, red-shingled, 
West Sussex towns.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Under this vastness of great yawning cosmic sublimes
Ebbing upon the waves of galactic oceans swelling above,
Straddled by eternal Orion with belted sword and terrible club!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
For as i pass those goodly villages and towers, sneaking a peek,
I look out over the dark outlined shapes and spires:
Wonder i upon that furrowed brow, that crimson cheek -
Did you quietly cry, blaze and rage, or fall you into deep troubled sleep?
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
But sunrises horizons will surely arrive;
And i feel so weak as i readjust myself to the reclined seat.
For i have miles and miles to drive
Before that welcoming bed that i do most earnestly seek...
Lends to me - and sweeps away my exhausted feet!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not lie.
My heavy heart embedded like an anchor deep within
Your reef of sighs;
As motoring over Portsbridge creek my engine flies!
Little painted crafts pushing laboriously against the current 
Of a Solents double tide:
A brief glimpse of a lit up bridge, a safe harbour
Snug within a picturesque quayside.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
Standing tall and proud, refuting Hampshires Pompey winds,
Beached "Sails of the South" of wide fame renown;
When rushing in, resounding waves of indifferent sounds -
Crashing over Portseas spray-lashed rocks to so remorselessly pound!



















Details | Mouse Poem | |

Tea Cup

                                                       I
                                                        AM
                                                         NOT
                                                       ONLY
                       A CUP FOR HOT TEA, I CAN BE ANYTHING YOU’   D
                         LIKE ME TO BE. YOU COULD FILL ME WITH         A
                            BOUQUET OF FLOWERS FROM YOUR CH          I
                             LD, OR MAYBE WITH SOME COFFEE  BE         I
                              T STRONG OR BE IT MILD. YOU  MIGH       T
                                EVEN WANT ME, TO DECORATE YOU     R        
                                  HOUSE, FILL ME UP WITH PENNIE     S
                                    OR HELP YOU CATCH A MOUSE.  I
                                      THINK THERE’S SOMETHING
                                           YOU SHOULD KNOW
                                               BEFORE YOU DO
          YOU SEE, IN ENGLAND I AM ONLY USED FOR THEIR BELOVED TEA.

Brenda Meier-Hans
2012

Details | Mouse Poem | |

OUR CAT NAMED 'POSHPAWS'

Poshpaws was our beloved pussy cat She would clean her fur when sat on the mat Loved to be stroked, we could tickle her tum Her purr was loud like the noise from a drum Large emerald eyes would sparkle and gleam Her coat so soft with a beautiful sheen She would lie in the sun from dusk till dawn Rouse from her dreams with a pussycat yawn Dad did not like cats - that’s what he would say But on his lap Poshpaws would always lay She’d follow my Dad all around the house Make no noise, be as quiet as a mouse She slipped away from us aged only ten Buried in a beautiful shady glen 11~23~14 Contest: Pets Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton ~awarded 2nd place~

Details | Mouse Poem | |

In the magical forest

For Rogers contest, magical forest

In the magical forest

It was on a lovely, mystic night
Full moon was shining big and bright
The trees they glistened neath the moon
I strode there whistling a happy tune
There was so much beauty in this place
This magical forest filled with grace
As the stars they twinkled in the sky
This night it raised my spirits high

I heard the sound of a mystic flute
A lovely sound I’ll not refute
As I came across this clearing where
I had no choice but to stand and stare
There were elves and fairies, Goblins too 
And they could dance, I’m telling you
As the forest folk all gathered round
And from this scene such joy they found

The bears were there, the foxes too
They formed a band with a kangaroo
A couple of Dingo’s, and a mouse
It was like a kind of open house
Everyone did sing a song
As the mike it went around the throng
Then I awoke, it was a dream!
But oh, it was a lovely theme.

11 March 2014 @ 0500hrs.















Details | Mouse Poem | |

Mama's Rules

Life is full of rules baby girl, that you need to follow.
When chewing bubble gum, spit it out, don't swallow.
Hold on to your mama's hand when walking through a store.
If mama tells you no once, don't be asking anymore.
When you hear mama counting from five down to one,
That is not your cue to go wild, scream and run.
Take off your muddy shoes when you enter mama's house.
And when daddy is sleeping you be as quiet as a mouse.
Find the brightest star every night to make all your wishes.
Be sure to give your mama a billion zillion kisses.
Life is full of little rules that you have to do.
Rule number one is never forget how much mama loves you.


casarah.altervista.org

Details | Mouse Poem | |

Truth

It was the end of the job
a big do for everyone concerned 
they who were invited 
We were the last standing on the site
today was our last day working 
got a big lump of money 
with a fat bonus thrown in for my loyalty
It was held in the city center 
food and everything was laid on 
Stayed for a while had four beers
ate loads of the best beef stuffed myself
I had just worked twelve hours 
really felt very tired after a long day 
hailed a taxi as one always done when paid 
felt a lot safer as my brother was mugged three times 
in the underground ubhann I was done once dumped for dead 
jumped in the car just fell asleep exhausted
next thing I remember him wakening me up
shaking me quite hard done this trip hundreds of times
Always landing at my door looking around 
not the strangest sights that meet my eyes he says I am home 
Almost having a heart attack he demands money for the fare
I have not a clue were here is taking me
then he starts grabbing for me saying if I do not get out he will
get the police so I got out he tried to run over me 
could hear the sirens in the distance so I ran 
just because I was illegal in the country at the time 
now they are trying to do me nearly twenty years later
on micky mouse charges brought up against me 
this is the only story I know he never dropped me home
so I never paid him plain and simple in my eyes 
this is my sworn word in testimony if not in this life
I will be smiling if you reach the gates 
have you felt the pain and suffering this has put my family through 
no one ever has luck in dis honesty 





Details | Mouse Poem | |

Twins Revenge

A. W. Nutter

Fog from my breath in the way
Temporarily impeding my vision
A small lamp, illuminates my prey
Unaware, of his impending execution

Rons wife, conveniently out of town
Visiting a sick relative, her perfect alibi
She must really despise this clown
I wonder if she kissed the fool goodbye

Staying in the shadows around the house
Dressed in black, invisible in the darkness
Entering their kitchen, quiet as a mouse
Through a window, left unlocked on purpose

From the first bedroom a child moans
Peering at the bed and the sleeping boy
The husband was supposed to be left alone
She'll pay dearly for this unexpected ploy

With the silencer in place I wake up Ron
He dresses quickly picking up his keys
Protesting will endanger his bastard son
He drives us deep into the forest of trees

Removing my mask he views his twin
Staring into the face of his supine form
Before he can protest I commit the sin
Then pray for God to help me reform

Burning the body along with the gun
Quickly driving home to start my new life
Showering, I slip into bed with my son
Real father and mother now husband and wife

Details | Mouse Poem | |

The Ballad of Goodie-Two-Shoes

My mother went to heaven on the day that I was born
My father raised me up before my mother he would join
He said, “Son, to get to heaven you must live a good, clean life
So you can go to meet your mother and see me with my wife.”

So, I tried to be good and I followed the golden rule
I did what I should and I was obedient all through school
I shared what I could and I read my bible every day
I tried to avoid evil thoughts and never a hurtful thing I’d say

The kids picked on me and “goodie-two-shoes” became my name
But, because I had a mission my actions always were the same
The road to meet my mother was a path to be kept clear
So bullies had their way with me – no retaliation need they fear

After my father passed away I met a beautiful young girl
She was everything to me; she was the rock in my empty world
We got married in the Summer; she was carrying my child in the Spring
I was looking forward to being a father to this miracle she would bring

I was working at a charity when they broke into my house
My wife tried to hide from them, being quiet as a mouse
They said, “Oh look, its goodie-two-shoes’ home, lets burn it to the ground”
When she yelled at them to stop this act, my wife was finally found

I won’t say what they did to her – the details I will spare
When she said, “My husband will soon be back”, they said, “What do we care”
“Goodie-two-shoes shares everything, of course he’d share his wife
Besides, that man’s a coward; we can do just what we like.”

When I came home and saw her, my mother spoke into my ear,
“Don’t worry about heaven, son, I’ve always been right here.”
I took my wife to the hospital, where they said she’d be okay
Then I went to find those bastards and wipe my life of good away

When they saw me approaching they laughed right into my face
With the first swing of the baseball bat I fell from heavens’ grace
Two men were unconscious before the third knew what to do
The bullet that he shot at me, my shoulder it passed right through

Justifiable homicide – on probation for ten years
My wife and son at my side, there is happiness in my tears
My mother and father visit me every night in my bedtime dreams
I didn’t need to take that path to heaven – or so, at least, it seems

Details | Mouse Poem | |

You Said You Understood

Listen Heathcliff, don’t get me wrong,
but this isn't working so good.
You're a dragon and I'm a mouse,
last night you said you understood.

Don’t go getting all teary eyed,
yesterday you almost drowned me.
And that weird look in your eye says,
you want more than a cup of tea.

I know you say you gave up meat,
but honestly I can't trust you.
And whether hungry or horny,
hanging around me just won't do.

Just because you hate the water,
don't mean that you can't take a bath.
For you've seen me hold my nose,
add it up man and do the math.

So Heathcliff, it's been a trip man,
but it is time for you to go.
And if you come back tomorrow,
don't be surprised if I don't show.

Details | Mouse Poem | |

Kissed by Katy

Although two other felines enjoyed their lap time Atop them the dominating Katy would climb The lap she didn’t want; she sat right on my face Katy felt this was her right; she had claimed this space If I tried to watch TV, her paw closed my eyes If challenged, with a huffy hiss she would chastise At mealtime she’d growl, chasing other cats away How did I come to adopt this demanding stray At the Humane Society, I passed her cage She clawed my sleeve and my attention she engaged Smarter than most cats, Katy was queen of our house She’d just yawn if we were invaded by a mouse For twenty-two years, Katy always made me smile The morning she passed, I felt like I’d lost a child
*Written November 5, 2014, in honor of Katy Cat.

Details | Mouse Poem | |

Oh them hot air balloons

SOCIETY AND THE HOT AIR BALLOON

Them that need to climb
ride as the hot air balloon--
soon come down to earth


THE VIRTUAL HOT AIR BALLOON

Ride with the rainbow--
silent as the mouse cursor
across Google earth 


For SKAT hot air balloon contest.
    

Details | Mouse Poem | |

TECHNO JUNK





Keyboards smash for a night owl like me Refreshing the page; you won’t agree To open the sites as eyes can’t track web-links; now comes my panic attack. Deadline begs the hard drive, “ oh, please load” Yet, horrid creatures romp in your abode; The mouse, bugs, and plants versus zombies! Hey, Dell; stop ruling technology. With one naughty virus, you are junk A darn gadget Windows can debunk. Now,who leads this port, man or machine My files are saved,well dear PC, I win! Carol Eastman's Computer Contest -Plants versus Zombies is an online game 4/9/2015

Details | Mouse Poem | |

Funny Onion

Out shopping met an old friend from school
he turns to me serious looking
what are you at these days 
Well says I
working for a China man
picking up crumbs 
for disabled birds
Those with broken wings
who are unable to fly smiling
to warmer sunnier climates

Whoa he sounded shocked
he said what a job
What's the money like 
he asked laughing out loud
I said less than peanuts
out all weathers 
Barely feed a mouse

God I am glad he said 
that I have bumped into you
saying you have just really cheered me up
What a man really needed
Peanuts I replied
He began laughing 
saying that I was a character
really brightened up his dull day
leaving all I heard was him laughing


Details | Mouse Poem | |

To Sit And Watch The Snow Fall

I like to sit and watch the snowfall as I’ve done in my memory.
Falling upon the deck, falling where my toys used to be.
Where as a child I’d sit and watch the woods turn from brown to white.
I had so many dreams back then, as I do here tonight.

The smell of ginger bread cookies and cider filled the house.
Where there was good cheer for all including the visiting mouse.
The sweet taste of maple syrup from Teatown I recall.
As the snow fell on the ice where we used to slip, slide and fall.

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