It's In the Bag!

First, thank you so much Flighty, for the lovely birthday wishes and the rose :) Also the comments which I truly appreciated. Such delightful blog friends. I had a great weekend ~

And now this ...by yours truly ~

It's In the Bag!

A rodent in the house is most perplexing!
Although he played a game of hide and seek,
eventually his game became quite vexing
when here and there he went, without a squeak.

Some telltale signs were spotted, but not many,
which seemed to indicate there was just one.
but one is one too much! I don’t want any!
The plain and simple fact is ~ I want NONE! ~

Now cartoon mice are pictured as appealing.
They’re very cute with mousy tales to tell,
but Morris, I just have this sinking feeling,
is not that kind of mouse. He raises hell!

Well, as you know, I first set out a bucket
with peanut butter dangling from a hook.
It seems the mouse deferred and never took it.
Perhaps he never stopped to take a look!

Some chunks of cheese were placed upon a mousetrap,
enticing him with dreams of paradise.
Although the cheese dried out (we had a cold snap),
it disappeared from view, not once, but twice.

At last the trap was set, but I was leery.
The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men (that’s Burns)
was more than poetry. A proven theory
much like the law - Diminishing Returns.

Yet, in the night, the mousetrap sprang in motion
and flipping upside down, disgorged the cheese,
which splattered on the wall~ What a commotion!
And Morris…where was he? On bended knees!

He thanked his lucky stars his toe had triggered
the spring that held the cheese within its clasp,
and even though they thought they had him figured,
he hadn’t fallen yet into their grasp.

He scampered up the stairs, for more exploring,
but couldn’t find a single thing to eat.
Oh Rats, he thought, this floor is very boring…
(But Hallowe’en just might bring him a treat!)

His twitchy nose began to sniff temptation
so up he jumped and landed in a bin.
A crumpled bag of chips was his salvation,
as little crumby bits stuck to his chin.

At last he’d found a haven that was cozy
away from all the craziness downstairs.
He thought he’d have a nap as he felt dozy.
So nice to have a moment without cares!

But suddenly a hand reached down…Scout’s honour!
and tied that plastic liner in a knot.
Oh, Rats he thought, this time I am a goner ~
The chips were down – no wonder I got caught!

He felt himself get plunked in a container,
as darkness from the lid closed out the light.
His fate it seems was sealed in that retainer.
Confined he was, completely out of sight.

So there he sat just waiting for the ending,
too scared to think of what the end might be.
There really was no point in still pretending
that he was little Morris, running free.

He felt a sudden wobble – he was moving,
like swaying in a cradle or a swing;
a little hope; perhaps things were improving.
If only he could jump out of this thing!

A rumble and a racket stopped his thinking.
He'd been taken for a ride! What was this?
He opened up his eyes, and started blinking
for spread before him ~ Heaven! It was bliss!

A meadow filled with many country cousins
now welcomed him with tiny open arms.
He couldn’t count them all for there were dozens
who lived both near and far on rural farms.

It’s not to say there won’t be any danger
for countrysides host many birds of prey,
and cats and other creatures that are stranger.
At least our little Morris got away…

I hope with all my heart that he was solo,
but just in case, I’ll watch out for his wife.
I’m hoping he’ll find Doris in the country
and I can live a sane and mouse-free life.

If you still have room for more mice (and poetry), here's the delightful Diary of a Church Mouse by John Betjeman