I have noticed that a lot of bloggers post poems. A lot of these poems are deep, hart felt and emotional. So here is one about a mouse.
The little white mouse.
Theres a little white mouse
who lives in my house.
I wish he’d get out
as he upsets my spouse.
He eats all the crumbs
that I drop on the flow,
then he has the effrontery
to ask for some more.
He invites his family
round for a party.
I’d chuck them all out
but his mum knows karate.
He plays Rock and Roll
whirl I’m trying to sleep.
I’d move out my self
but the bills here are cheap.
I wish he’d go away
but he seams quite content
to live in my house
whirl I pay all the rent.
He could live in a field
like the field mice do
or, if that was no good
he could stay at the zoo.
He could go to Jamaica
or maybe up South.
He could save up his money
and get his own house.
I wish he’d just leave
but it seams he won’t go.
I beg and I plead
but the answer is “no”.
Who would have thought
that a little white mouse
could cause so much grief
just by being in my house.
