The Mouseís Tale
Author: Mark Spencer
In the attic of a house,
Lived a cheerful little field mouse,
He came from the fields one day,
Because he had no place to stay.
He was teased by other mice,
Who didnít treat him very nice.
They made him feel like a pest,
For he was smaller than the rest.
Then one day they got too rough,
Thatís when he said heíd had enough.
So he left, without a trace,
To find himself a better place.
He didnít have far to roam,
Before he found his happy home.
One look at that attic view,
Was all it took, and then he knew,
This wasnít some silly whim,
That attic was the place for him.
And then, with a stroke of luck,
The mouse tracked down a moving duck,
So the duck, whose name was Fred,
Moved all his things, for scraps of bread.
And as the mouse settled in,
He watched the winter months begin.
Other mice fled to their holes,
As winter came, they lived like moles.
But the little field mouse,
Up in the attic of that house,
Stayed cozy all winter long,
For he was right where he belonged.
Then one day there came a rat,
And so the people bought a cat.
The poor little field mouse,
Up in the attic of that house,
Wasnít cozy after that,
Held captive by that pesky cat.
But as the Spring brought the thaw,
He started slipping past the paw.
After tracking down the rat,
That feline started getting fat.
She wasnít quick like before,
And couldnít chase him anymore.
Life got better for the mouse,
Up in the attic of that house.
But new troubles would begin,
The day another mouse moved in.
She made her home in a wall,
Which didnít please our friend at all.
This was another field mouse,
Barging into his cozy house.
Making his job twice as tough,
As if it wasnít tough enough.
To keep them both safe and sound,
Whenever Kitty prowled around,
He kept watch over this pest,
Which gave the mouse no time for rest.
After weeks of standing guard,
His task was getting much too hard.
So the only thing to do,
Was move her to the attic too.
And soon the two fell in love,
There in the attic up above.
But before this tale is through,
Thereís one more thing he had to do,
It came one dry summer night,
From one forgotten candle light.
The mouse woke up, in a daze,
To see the farm house all ablaze.
The people were fast asleep,
And so the mouse would have to leap,
To the nightstand in a flash,
Knocking a vase off with a crash.
The people fled from the house,
But there was more work for the mouse,
The cat was still trapped inside,
And couldnít find a place to hide.
So the mouse began to shout,
To get the cat to chase him out.
When she did it was revealed,
That sparks were floating toward the field.
This was more than he could do,
To warn them all, required two.
So the other field mouse,
Who shared the attic of that house,
Offered to help with his task,
He didnít even have to ask.
Out into the fields of rice,
They ran to warn the other mice.
With the flames growing higher,
They stayed ahead of the fire.
Until every field mouse,
Came to the road beside the house.
All who gathered there that night,
Could see who saved them from their plight.
This would take them by surprise,
Since they had judged him by his size.
But size doesnít mean a thing,
For you can do most anything,
When youíre faced with grief or strife,
A tiny mouse can save your life.
Donít forget this mouseís tale,
The next time youíre afraid to fail.
The ending could be for you,
Happily ever after, too.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Megan (220.127.116.11) -- Wednesday, September 20 2006, 02:36 am|
This was too cute.
Click here to read other Poems by Mark Spencer
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