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MY MOUSE

I live on two acres in a big white house

But you see I'm never lonely

Because I have my mouse

 

He runs across the lounge room floor

While I'm watching telly

Straight into the kitchen 

Then to fill his little belly

 

Sometimes he'll stand on his hind legs

I guess it's just to show me 

It's just to show he knows me

 

I don't know where he really lives

Or where he has his nest

But of all the homes that he's been in

He reckons mines the best

 

I never put any mouse trap out

They're so cruel and gory

But if he brings his mates along

Well that's another story.

◄ MY CAMPFIRE GUITAR

THE FRUIT GROWER'S LAMENT ►

Comments

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M.C. Newberry

Fri 19th May 2017 13:46

I had my own small occasional visitor who used to appear
in a grey blur across my carpet while I watched TV
in the early hours and I've previously posted about that
domestic situation. Sometimes, my little visitor would
pass amazingly close to yours truly as if unaware I was
there - until I made an intentional movement to speed
things along in a dash for cover. I found the little corpse
one morning beneath the table supporting the TV and
like to think the last glimpse of a passing life was of this
live and let live human host. But I go along with the
misgivings about a host of friends and relations making their
home with me here in my 2nd floor flat!

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 19th May 2017 12:05

Great subject, well-written and much enjoyed.

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Jonalyn Cajefe

Fri 19th May 2017 05:33

Thank you..??????

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