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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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
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 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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Sleeping Mouse
Sleeping Mouse
In front of me, on the track that leads into the bushes, a tiny field mouse.
Picked it up and put it in the palm of my hand. The mouse was brown and
white, absurdly cute when it curled up and fell asleep in the morning light.
Eyes, lungs and heart, like me, so what’s next? I couldn’t stay here with my
hand outstretched waiting for it to wake up from its slumber, nor could
I take it home. Behind me I heard the shepherd with his sheep and dogs,
Put the mouse in my pocket. When dust had settled and the baaing stopped
I put my hand in pocket to pick it up, only it wasn’t there anymore. To have
a mouse in the palm of my hand, is one thing, but to have it crawling about
inside my pants? I took my trousers off. I took my shirt off. I stood there
naked as Adam in Paradise, no mouse. As I slowly dressed, butterflies flitted
making the woods enchanting.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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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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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There Once Was A Tiny Girl
there once
was a tiny girl
who grew up
in this world
there once
was a tiny girl
who cried herself to sleep
every night
there once
was a tiny girl
who wore the same dress
every day
there once
was a tiny girl
who wouldn't go out
and play
there once
was a tiny girl
who would bleed and have bruises
from head to toe
there once
was a tiny girl
who begged
daddy, please no more
there once
was a tiny girl
who the angels
heard her prayer
they came down
and took her
to a better place
where that tiny girl
found love
instead of hate
by: crystal sonier
age: 15
poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
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Near-Miss
A mouse, all gray with tiny ears
was crying salty rodent tears.
A cat had cornered him and planned
to eat him as he ate his aunt.
Just when the cat had opened wide
a voice was heard from the outside.
Dog Brutus, who resided near
had just decided to appear.
He barged, as he was fond of doing
inside and saw the trouble brewing.
And since he liked all little mice
he told the cat 'now you be nice'.
The cat, however, was not used
to be directed and abused.
And with the swipe of its big paw
the mouse went down into the craw.
By now, the dog was mad as hell
and things looked for the cat not well.
He gulped the cat (and thus the mouse)
and wandered off to his own house.
And as he settled down to snooze
he saw a pair of Rockford shoes
approaching from across the street
he knew it was the butcher, Pete.
The butcher was a nasty man
and always fought with brother Stan.
He carried in his hand a knife,
the dog now feared for his own life.
Now let me tell you how it ended,
the butcher, who had been offended
by the mere presence of the mutt
just stood there scratching his big gut.
That was the signal for the cat,
which in the dog's own stomach sat.
The cat responded to her master
who, instantly, sensed a disaster.
She bounced and jumped, the mouse did follow
the air was sparse inside the hollow.
And through the movement Brutus shivered
when on command his brain delivered
a burp of monumental size
and this now triggered a surprise.
The cat, (and thus the mouse as well)
exploded outward with a yell.
Thus now you know that dogs that belch
throw up (but only if they're Welsh) .
You didn't think that cat survived
inside? Of oxygen deprived?
You're right of course, but let me say
the mouse and cat inside DID pray.
And, in the end, I told my spouse,
it all came down to Mouse to mouth.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Valentine's Day
Oh! I wish I were a tiny browny bird from out the south,
Settled among the alder-holts, and twittering by the stream;
I would put my tiny tail down, and put up my tiny mouth,
And sing my tiny life away in one melodious dream.
I would sing about the blossoms, and the sunshine and the sky,
And the tiny wife I mean to have in such a cosy nest;
And if some one came and shot me dead, why then I could but die,
With my tiny life and tiny song just ended at their best.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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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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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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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 Other
I sit at this tiny table
and wait
as I have before
for you to make
excuses to get
away;
to steal the tiny time
you have with me.
I know I should go,
break away
and leave
but I don't.
I sip my coffee
swirling in the cup
mixing my milk
and your strong brew.
Perhaps one day
there will be a me and you
but today-right now
there is only me.
I feel you at my side
suddenly
your face
comes over me
and once again
there is the peace
you offer
each time we meet.
That is the drug
which overpowers
each time
I
the other woman;
and we
reach across
the tiny table
re-joined
in tiny time
the tiny space
we allow ourselves
to enjoy
rarely,
this other me
that other you.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Tiny Drop
Waste of Tiny, Tiny Water Drops.
Always Trigger my Conscious Thoughts.
A Tiny Water Drop can make a Sapling Laugh
Tiny, Tiny water Drops can get you sweet Pod.
Tiny, Tiny Water Drops can make a Plant to Stand
As a Tree, This can give Shelter to a Lot.
Because of Waste of Tiny, Tiny water Drops
Many lives have become short.
So try to save even tiny water Drop, Which will
Get you Heartily Laugh.
poem by Narendra Kuppan
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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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Feed your ego
Choose a circle to be head of,
Even a tiny one,
Like a head of a mouse
To feed your starving ego.
08.04.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Real Cat And A Real Mouse
My cat is not much of a hunter. A mouse
he brought in and did not kill; now in my house, ...
...this small but wild creature, to name I not dare
it has cute pink feet and has gray for it's hair.
So why does my can bring in things that are prey
and leave them to bounce around day after day?
And I can not catch it, I have not the whit.
And nor does my cat because that cat will sit...
...and watch as I try to get that mouse to stray
away from the hiding place...leaves in dismay...
...the two of us. We just don't know what to do.
This mouse is quite stealth as it poops in my shoe.
Today is the day I shall set a safe trap
to catch what my cat brought in, my cat's a brat.
Copyright 12-28-2008 ©® Sarah Sisson
poem by Sarah Sisson
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