On A Miser, 2 (From The Greek)
A miser traversing his house,
Espied, unusual there, a mouse,
And thus his uninvited guest
Briskly inquisitive address'd:
'Tell me, my dear, to what cause is't
I owe this unexpected visit?'
The mouse her host obliquely eyed,
And, smiling, pleasantly replied:
'Fear not, good fellow, for your hoard!
I come to lodge, and not to board.'
poem by William Cowper
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Related quotes
Missing
Has anybody seen my mouse?
I opened his box for half a minute,
Just to make sure he was really in it,
And while I was looking, he jumped outside!
I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried....
I think he's somewhere about the house.
Has anyone seen my mouse?
Uncle John, have you seen my mouse?
Just a small sort of mouse, a dear little brown one,
He came from the country, he wasn't a town one,
So he'll feel all lonely in a London street;
Why, what could he possibly find to eat?
He must be somewhere. I'll ask Aunt Rose:
Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?
He's just got out...
Hasn't anybody seen my mouse?
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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The Mouse and the Grouse
The teeny, tiny mouse said to the finely feathered grouse
“I’d like to come and visit you in your lofty, lovely house.”
The finely feathered grouse smiled at the teeny, tiny mouse
And said, “You can’t since I'm saving it for my future spouse.”
The sad teeny, tiny mouse said, as tears started to douse,
“I’m lonely and just wanted to say hello, finely feathered grouse.”
Well, the finely feathered grouse with his lofty, lovely house
Was lonely too since he hadn’t yet found his future spouse.
But how could a mouse so teeny, tiny and a grouse so fine of feather
Ever visit each other and have a talk together?
They had nothing in common and their lives had different starts.
Although one thing was the same; they both had hurting hearts.
No one had ever visited the finely feathered grouse
And he did like friendly words uttered by the teeny, tiny mouse.
As mister mouse gazed aloft, sir grouse returned that smile
And suddenly blurted out, “Come on up and we’ll chat for awhile.”
Overjoyed, the teeny, tiny mouse jumped, but just bumped the tree.
Then tears wet ears to tail as teeny tiny moaned mournfully,
“You can fly free through the air, but alas, I’m earthbound.
There’s no hope since you live in a tree, but my house is on the ground.”
Suddenly, a star from the heavens flashed an idea for these two.
Perhaps they could visit together if both tried something new.
The finely feathered grouse left his lofty, lovely house
And eagerly landed in a bush near the star struck tiny mouse.
In one hop teeny, tiny leapt toward the bush, and I’ve heard tell
That the friendship of grouse and mouse has been doing very well.
(Illustrated book available direct from author)
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Alankar (Decor) -32
Chase (Rondeau Redoubled)
I won't let you go out o' little mouse
Shall see to it once and all for today
You run run-I run run-round round the house
But I win, you're caught and lost just today
Here I keep the trap to trap and dismay
Sugared magic sure you're fooled o'poor mouse
Cunning you think? brainy you think? ..today
I won't let you go out o' little mouse
Fought, caught, taught to rot petty petty mouse
Bitter squeaks, what a pest, what a hell, hey
Snouty mouse, messy beast, out from this house
Shall see to it once and all for today
May foe feline be fed on you today
Be hooked and thrown-that I shall venge you mouse
Ha, ha, ha then shall all end just today
You run run-I run run-round round the house
No reason, no season, no taste o' mouse
krrkk, krrkk-nibbling all things, all time whole day
Like thief hide and steal you do in my house
But I win, you're caught and lost just today
Here is the trap for your best goal today
Slip in soundless for the 'masaal' o'mouse
I'm sure you will tempted fall but at bay
Thrown awed by foe feline outside the house
I won't let you
poem by Indira Renganathan
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a mouse teaches Diogenes
You see Diogenes living in the slums. He lives in a barrel. This is the man even Alexander the Great admires. So it makes you wonder about Diogenes.
So you pretend to be there quite by accident and you ask: “Diogenes…Who was your teacher? ”
“A mouse was my teacher, ” says Diogenes.
You are quite confused. And you say: 'A mouse is your teacher? And how is that, Diogenes? '
“Well, most exquisite Sir, ” says Diogenes to you. “Most cultured Sir, ” he says. “I had no home and I was in the streets. I almost killed myself. Then I saw mouse. Mouse ran around and looked for food and it found some and I observed mouse for over two days. And I realized how resourceful mouse was. And then I said to myself: ‘Learn of the mouse, Diogenes- and all will be well.’ And so I learned of mouse. And every time I have a problem, I simply ask myself: ‘How will mouse solve this? ’ And so mouse became my teacher. And now, most Exquisite Sir, I have a problem. You. I want to get rid of you and I ask myself: ‘How would mouse solve this problem? ’ He would bite…”
You listen to this and you are afraid – and you run. And Diogenes has done well; he has learned well from his teacher. And you can hear him shouting to you: “By the way, who was your teacher? ”
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Mouse That Was King
Drum rolls jesters dance, frolic and sing
The crowd waits with excitement for the crowning of the new king
Order order cries the speaker order in the house
From behind the curtain the king sprung out
The crowd gasps in disbelief for king was a tiny little mouse
The king leaped upon the thrown and silenced the crowd
For i am your king said the tiny little mouse
Do not fear me the king cried out
The crowd screamed out with fits of laughter in the house
How can you rule a kingdom your a tiny little mouse
Then from no where at all the king let out a mighty roar
Where did that come from a voice call out
Well we all know it came from this tiny little mouse
Why Are You Gloating?
Why are you gloating?
You look as if you were a mouse,
Who was just awarded...
A lifetime supply of cheese.
'That's almost funny.
No.
But...
Say I 'was' that mouse.'
Okay...
Mouse.
'And that mouse was suspected of stealing cheese.
And those who made the cheese...
Did all they could to find the mouse guilty of the crime.'
Go ahead,
I'm listening.
'And...
The mouse,
Kept telling the makers of cheese...
They actually befriended rats!
And those rats were the culprits of the theft all along.'
I don't get it.
What has that got to do with you?
'You see...
The folks had their eyes focused on the mouse closely.
Under microscope.
Not realizing they socialized and entertained disguised rats.
Masquerading as wholesome folks with undeniable integrity.'
What became the outcome?
'Well...
Not only was the mouse awarded that lifetime of cheese you mentioned.
But efforts long dismissed achieved notoriety for that same mouse.'
Soooo,
'Why' are 'you' gloating?
'Forget it.
Just forget it.'
Hey,
Wait a minute.
Don't get angry with me.
You were the one to bring up the mice and rats in disguise,
Working inside a cheese factory.
Yeah...
That's right.
Walk away.
You need to lay that head down and get some rest.
No wonder I see him smiling all the time.
The dude is nuts!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cat and Mouse
I am the mouse running from the cat,
or am I the cat chasing the mouse?
According to Chinese astrology I'm a Rat,
so who is the boss of the house?
Cat and mouse, chasing in my head.
Who I am? I don't know. It's better to forget...
poem by Jacqui Broad
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A Mouse Is Killed Today
a mouse is killed today
by an artist
who got mad because
the mouse ate his painting
of the nude woman
that evening while he got so furious
the mouse was at his hole
on the floor eating his usual cheese
the artist mumbled and murmured
and grumbled
and the mouse heard it
and called it
slapstick poetry
a doggerel,
the artist was not able to hold his temper
anymore
got an armalite and shot the hole with the mouse in it
in the name of art
the artist invokes his right to kill the mouse
he says it was
' clearly an artistic expression
and protected by the First Amendment.'
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The City Mouse And The Garden Mouse
The city mouse lives in a house; -
The garden mouse lives in a bower,
He's friendly with the frogs and toads,
And sees the pretty plants in flower.
The city mouse eats bread and cheese; -
The garden mouse eats what he can;
We will not grudge him seeds and stalks,
Poor little timid furry man.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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My Red House
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I once played in that red house
Shy was I, like a little mouse
Tippy toed I went looking around
Giggling, without making any sound
Happy was I to run around and play
My very own home to live and stay
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Darkness came swiftly one night
A sense of something was not quite right
The shadows came across the wall
Covering my eyes, ready for my fall
The sounds of whips and chains dragged
against the floor
The sheer terror numbed me from looking
passed that door
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The darkness slowly turned to grey
The black clouds lifting away
No longer trapped, I did not need to stay
Free was I to let go and make my own way
So ever slowly, opening that door
I could see the light and so much more
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Changing and always moving
Never stopping and always wanting
Step by step, I shed all those tears
One at a time, I climbed up those stairs
Moving closer to where I want to be
No longer a child but an adult me
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I came home today
The Red House, same as it was yesterday
Slowly, walking up that hill
Everything seems to be in a stand still
I could only stay for a while
Before the darkness comes within a mile
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The breath of life you gave to me
But took away the child within me
No longer a pawn to your destruction
I have found my peace and resolution
Turning away towards the path of light
I see a very beautiful sight
My Red House
There is no longer a mouse
poem by Miu Miu Ayushi
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My White Mouse
At dusk I saw a craintive mouse
That sneaked and stole around the house;
At first I took it for a ghost,
For it was snowy white - almost.
I've seen them in captivity,
But this white mouse was wild and free,
And every eye with stealth it stole
And foraged in the garbage hole.
I told the folks, yet wondered why
No one could see the mouse but I;
For it was really, truly white,
And not just silvered by moonlight.
And then there came a big black cat,
And thought I said: "Get out of that!"
It stared at me with savage eyes,
As big and yellow as moonrise.
And often times I wonder whether
They didn't just go off together,
In the bright moonlight, paw in paw,
For never more my mouse I saw.
poem by Robert William Service
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Poem: Field Mouse
An unsuspecting, little, field mouse
committed a simple mistake one day;
it unwittingly entered my rented house,
not knowing my cats wanted to play.
My feline buddies, Hijinx and Mischief,
decided to live up to their spirited names;
sadly, the field mouse was offered no relief –
for the boys had a live prize to claim.
By its tail, my cats had live entertainment;
although they’re allowed to have their fun,
from this one deed, my cats will never repent;
for they again had disobeyed - rule number one.
Since their English is not very good,
their one restriction they tend to forget;
so it’s not surprising they misunderstood,
my rule of: “Pets are not allowed to have pets! ”
So now it was time for me to intervene;
performing an unexpected “Animal Rescue”,
I now became a mouse catching machine
and watched him scamper away from my view.
A new retrieval approach, I had to posit;
with the boys closely monitoring my work,
I quickly chased him into a nearby closet,
hoping my cats wouldn’t impatiently go berserk.
Removing items from the closet’s floor,
and contending with this fuzzy foreigner,
I eyed the boys – to keep him from being gored.
Eventually, I trapped him in the corner.
By the time I reached him, he had died –
traumatized until his last heart’s rush.
Unlike my curious pets, I became teary eyed,
as this escapade ended… with a toilet’s flush.
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
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Dance Off At The Cottage
What a night it was, I was at the Cottage.
I see him dancing all by himself,
Why who is it? It’s none other than Mouse.
Mouse is in the house!
So I go up to Andy and say,
Hey, I’m going to dance Mouse off the stage.
Then Andy gives me a wink,
I go to my friends who give me a drink.
I go to the D.J. and request,
Play Michael Jackson, who is the best.
Then the music begins to play,
I take my shoes off for they get in the way.
The floor is cold for it is brick,
I don’t care, I jump and kick.
Balloons begin to come my way,
Women starts taking pictures and laughing real gay.
Everyone is screaming, it is so much fun,
I dance around Mouse who is the one.
The one I have chosen,
Chosen to dance off the stage,
He finally leaves, and I still dance away.
It was a fun night I do say.
Thanks Mouse for being there to play.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 26,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
www.puppitlady.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Mary Ellen
It's mighty quiet in the house
Since Mary Ellen quit me cold;
I've swept the hearth and fed the mouse
That's getting fat and overbold.
I've bought a pig's foot for the pot
And soon I'll set the fire alight;
Then I may eat or I may not,
Depends upon my appetite.
Since Mary Ellen left me lone
I haven't earned a bloody bob.
I sit and sigh, and mope and moan,
And bellyache I quit my job.
My money's mostly gone,--I think
I ought to save it up for food . . .
But no, I'll blow it in for drink,
Then do a bunk for good.
I watch my mouse his whiskers preen;
He watches me with wicked glee.
Today--oh God! It's years sixteen
Since Mary Ellen wed with me.
Oh how the dear girl hated vermin!
She left rat poison on the shelf . . .
Friend Mouse, your doom I new determine
Then--how about myself?
poem by Robert William Service
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Dance Off At The Cottage
What a night it was, I was at the Cottage.
I see him dancing all by himself,
Why who is it? It's none other than Mouse.
Mouse is in the house!
So I go up to Andy and say,
Hey, I'm going to dance Mouse off the stage.
Then Andy gives me a wink,
I go to my friends who give me a drink.
I go to the D.J. and request,
Play Michael Jackson, who is the best.
Then the music begins to play,
I take my shoes off for they get in the way.
The floor is cold for it is brick,
I don't care, I jump and kick.
Balloons begin to come my way,
Women starts taking pictures and laughing real gay.
Everyone is screaming, it is so much fun,
I dance around Mouse who is the one.
The one I have chosen,
Chosen to dance off the stage,
He finally leaves, and I still dance away.
It was a fun night I do say.
Thanks Mouse for being there to play.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 26,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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The Three Knocks
WHEN the owl that scared the mouse
Fluffed his feathers and sat still,
And the night around was chill,
On the door of yonder house
Someone knocked,
And a hand the door unlocked.
While the owl, aloof and drear
Yellow-eyed his vigil kept,
Down the breeze a crying crept,
And it seemed to tell of fear —
Fear and care —
It was Life that entered there!
When the owl had greyer grown
By a score of years and more,
On the selfsame cedar door
Of yon house that stands alone,
Someone knocked,
And a hand the door unlocked.
Yet, though many gracious flowers
Wreathed the house from floor to roof,
In his shadowed haunt aloof
Staring sat he through the hours,
Unaware
It was Love that entered there!
When the owl had passed away,
And the mouse, no more afraid,
In the tree-glooms frisked and played,
On that door at end of day
Someone knocked,
And a hand the door unlocked.
Once and twice that knock had come,
Once for Life, and once for Love;
Towards the night the shadows move,
And the land lies still and dumb
Everywhere —
It is Death that enters there!
poem by Roderic Quinn
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To Be Noticed As A Serious Undertaking
The playing of cat and mouse,
May come to validate the cat and the mouse...
Choosing to play.
However...
Someone deciding,
They wish to see a cat and mouse game played...
Without the interest of the cat or the mouse,
Might discover themselves to be disappointed.
And the focus of an attention not wanted.
Some folks can amuse themselves,
By assuming their misdeeds...
Increase with their childish effectiveness applied.
Like deciding which toy soldier,
Prefers to be in the trenches or on the battle line.
And these minds try to enforce an authority of some kind,
To be noticed as a serious undertaking.
And not regarded as a joke.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Mouse In The Maze
You did not
need to telephone today
to tell me
that you would not see me.
Today.
I already knew.
You left your job
I knew
you would not see me
very often.
If at all.
From this point on.
You live in the country
you can go nowhere.
Without justifying your time
people knowing.
Letting people know
paying for petrol.
You pay for petrol
money you no longer earn.
Where do you go?
Account for the petrol!
You do not realize yet
that you live in a maze.
You live in a maze
you are a mouse.
Merv runs the maze
you may run the house.
Or your own treadmill
you may run both.
You may run both
but both lead to nowhere.
You are the trained tame pet
caged laboratory mouse.
You may only run the house
and your children's home.
You are a mouse.
Merv the perve runs the maze.
The really sad thing is
he does not even bait you.
With a whole piece of cheese.
You run his prison maze
craving crumbs of affection.
He sometimes lets you keep.
You are only his mouse
running his relocated maze.
You are not as important
as his computer mouse.
Yet isn’t it funny
that I should fall for...
fall in love with
such a funny
mouse in a maze?
Apparently you are destined
to live a maze life,
running your treadmill
in submission,
to all important wishes
satisfying, the maze master?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Feeding Into Nonsense
Do not play cat and mouse with me,
And believe it okay.
Then recruit those you deceive,
To watch a perceived stripping done
You have promised to deliver!
That has me quivering in denial.
In fear of being approached by snakes,
In leopard skin.
It is already apparent you do not know me well.
Or my ability to quickly remove myself from grief.
My own or others!
And...
I will not lay down a mouse trap for a rat!
Nor am I going to wait to pounce,
Like a domesticated house cat!
I am going to ignore the fact you exist.
And be on my way!
You...
Will not find me feeding into nonsense.
Especially the overused molded kind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tiny Mouse
tiny mouse tiny mouse how are you today
tiny mouse tiny mouse be good today
poem by Alyssa Subera
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