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Jackie Mead Sep 2020
Mr. Mouse has observed, the autumn equinox has been.
Now his thoughts are wandering ahead to the ever-changing and uplifting autumnal scene.
Mr. Mouse is excited as the days begin to shorten and lose their heat.
The landscape begins to shift and in time the season will be moving to a slower, more mellow beat.
Mr. Mouse in tune, of course, with the changes of nature.
Has knowledge that trees lose their leaves as autumn matures.
Indeed Mr. Mouse always has an eye to the ground, where the driest leaves are to be found.
With his nose to the ground, in a crouch; He collects the driest of leaves and puts them in a pouch.
At home, he will use some as kindling for his fire and some in his bed to snuggle up to when he retires.
For now, though Mr. Mouse is delighted that soon there will be a dazzling display of varying colours.
As the leaves cycle through their changes from the lightest yellow to the richest brown before they drop to the ground.
Mr. Mouse remembers young children will be found.
Jumping in the leaves that fall to the ground.
Oh yes, Mr. Mouse is looking forward to the autumnal beat.
Laughing and playing as the leaves crunch beneath their feet.
Oh yes, Mr. Mouse is looking forward to the new autumnal beat.
If you know my poems of the church with a house on the river louse, Mr.Mouse is the mouse in this poem.
there was a little mouse he just love the sea
and a sailor mouse he just long to be
he built himself a yacht of the very best
then set himself a float to give his yacht the test

out in to the ocean the mouse he sailed away
as he waved goodbye to his friends along the bay
underneath the sun adventure bound was he
sailing on the ocean in the deep blue sea

after quite sometime perhaps a day or more
he saw a little island and headed for its shore
there were lots of creatures there were quite a few
a parrot and a turtle and a cockatoo.

they were very friendly and began to play
having lots of fun in this land so far away
then they had a picnic to give the mouse a treat
laid out on blanket with lots of food to eat.

mouse he stayed a while then set sail once more
bid his friends goodbye as he left the shore
his adventure had been fun a sailor now was he
now a sailor  mouse just like he longed to be.
Josh Feb 2017
A mouse is small
and a mouse is brown
but when one appears
big people scream loudly.
I wonder if the small, brown mouse
knows why there's so much noise.
Poor mouse is getting bullied!
Chased by giants!
Giants are slow, though.
Big and loud and slow, you know,
and too preoccupied with other things
to catch every quick little mouse.
I think the mouse will win this one.
But I heard they don't like chilli powder.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2022
I.

i sometimes sit down and wish a poem could write itself...
i've recently inspected the output of a.i. writing
systems...
    there were three examples...
                           i must say: i felt unimpressed...
                               i hardly think that computer can substitute
the careless ingenuity of man in the realm of writing:
careless? i hardly take myself seriously...
                                  i would sooner be found dead than
rewriting anything i write....
                    i've become so good at it that: even when drunk...
i make very little spelling mistakes: if any? on purpose...
as a joke... and typos are never apparent...
but i sometimes sit down and wish a poem could write itself...
i'm just too comfortable: strapped to the memory-cinema
i'm watching in my head...
   like that one movie where i was a supervisor at an Ed Sheeran
concert... had 16 stewards under me:
had a "problem" with only one...
               how i fed them free burgers and because i fed
them they managed to follow my rules: which i didn't even
have to dictate... because i was constantly vigilant of them...
constantly walking my stretch of the stadium
and peeping in... no one was on their phones...
no one... no one was out of position... no one...
                thank you grandpa Joseph for teaching me
how to be human with humans and not to allow
authority and power to go and start ego-tripping...
because: at the end of the day? as a supervisor?
                you're beneath the stewards... you need to...
keep them in check by following a humbled demeanor...
they're supposed to be in positions...
toilet breaks: don't be silly... this is not prison...
you don't ask for one: you just go...
     but... you want water? you want coffee?
sure... let me know... and i'll bring it for you...
obviously i can't go to the toilet for you...

     ever the eternal anti-****: ARBEIT MACHT FREI...
if that slogan was not scribbled as a sign before
the entrance to Auschwitz... but since it was...
                             i'm sticking to it... **** it... i'm stealing it...
says someone who was out of work /
in and out of work... but constantly writing for 10 years
dealing with psychiatrists... it's... refreshing...
i'm perhaps the most sane individual out there:
and i've come across a few crazies and oddities of man
as example and woman as example:
the neurotic types are easily spotted:
guys like me? diagnosed as having a psychotic complex:
we're harder to spot...
Polacks are like the Irish and what Freud said
about the Irish: almost impossible to psychoanalyse...
the psychiatrists i was working with:
about three at one time... and several medical
students too... gave up on me when i started
telling them: i'm arming myself with reading Kant,
Heidegger and Kierkegaard...
        and Jung and R. D. Laing...
                        what can you offer me?
             back in circa 2016 they let me out into
society... free as a bird... to... perhaps wreck havoc...

mind you... if a former supervisor worked with
some unruly girls... these unruly girls?
working with me? became subservient...
perhaps girls don't like other girls telling them what
to do... perhaps it takes a male approach...
oh sure... the unruly girls were attractive...
i almost think they fancied me too...
this one Somali plump blessing with extended
eyelashes just smiled her idiotically sweet smile
at me whenever i approached her and asked
her if she was happy...
    
she was annoyed by this other girl
  who kept criticising her for taking toilet breaks...
blah blah... in the end i asked her:
do you want to be moved?
yes... so i moved her... switched her around...
check-mate move... since moving her
coupling her with a very astute young gent
ambitious... i had management come up to me
and tell me that the two of them were
doing a great job getting people to pitch-side...

now... i find this to be mediocre writing...
i appreciate the fact that this is mediocre writing...
there's no fictional escapism...
all these words like supervisor... steward...
crowd safety... but as i once suggested:
we're trying to prevent another Manchester Arena
Bombing... aren't we?
     writing this i'm trying to stress...
some of us have to be vigilant... it's not a terribly
technical job... dealing with people: with crowds...
i think it's a joke-job... compared to roofing
or compared to landscaping... working on the aesthetics
of the garden... i treat it as a joke-job...

sure... i stole once... or twice... the most memorable theft
was... a Queens of the Stone Age c.d. from
W. H. Smiths... Songs for the Deaf...
i just took out the c.d. casually... i wanted the thrill...
i just took out the c.d. out of the case
and stashed it in a book i was then reading...
walked out... burned it... oddly enough returned
it at some other W. H. Smiths outlet
at Liverpool St.

do i think of myself as a good person?
   oh no, no no... i rather start with: i'm vile...
then work my way up...
                  i like the idea that i'm short-tempered
and that i need to keep that in check...
i might be 6ft2... but my temper is a midge-***
i let ride my shoulders coming in at 4ft1...
it's almost like... i age... but having a memory of myself
as a child... i'm dragging the me as a child
to the grave with me...
i'm only 36 now... at the zenith...
it's going to become ugly from now...

hence the memory-cinema i'm re-watching...
perhaps my life has become more interesting for any need
for movies... movies have started to bore me...
music is being stretched...
it's still my "protein"... but...
the search results are coming back blank...
i.e. i've heard this song before...

i tried to stop myself going crazy over this one
mixed-race girl... pristine... pale tinged by brown
skin... but... CURLY... CURLES of hair like
waves of an ocean of twists and turns of a river...
doe: pale brown eyes...
            young... oh... much younger than me...
again: once fed... very much content...
                                              which made my life all
the more easier...

II.

there are moments like this, they're hard to find...
but they're there...
i sometimes abhor man's pretenses for hoarding
past artifacts... but... sometimes i have to praise them...
what? the artifacts or the tactic of being so mortally
dead that one requires elements from the past
to be shoved into the immortal future?!
probably both...

an amalgamation of poem 10 from Ovid's book I
of the ****** poems... smoking... drinking...
while listening to KORTEZ's stare drzewa
   (old trees)...
                           some people have children and create
families and have beautiful moments...
as families...
  some people...
i thought about it... perhaps India is the Mecca
of cooking... with all her spices...
but... what are the pillars of the culinary endeavour?

fire...
            water...
                        ­      salt...
                                           hmm...
                                                          time..­.
yeast?! no really...
   you can make flat breads...

fire: water: salt: time: there must be something else
that's essential to cook food...
i need a refill... i'll take a 10 minute break and think
about it...

sooner than that!
   i just walked down the stairs to refill my cup with
ice-cubes... blitzkrieg!
breaking away from English looking for
a word in my mother's tongue:

tɫuszcz!  tɫuщ!   fat!
        tɫo! (canvas)

what are the culinary pillars?!
fire, water, salt, time & fat!

ogień, woda, sól, czas i tɫuszcz

doesn't it take 5 minutes to boil an egg for a soft-boil?!
you need water... to boil it... ergo... you need fire...
to boil it...
you want to fry an egg? you need fire...
and fat... to fry it in... since... you can't fry an egg
in water...
and with salt? osmosis... you want excess water
to be drawn out of foods that have no sweet juices
to be drawn out for a concentrate of taste
to be leftover... you don't put salt on fruits...
because... they are juicy...
but you put salt on vegetables because...
they are without juice...
but adding salt to them tenders their flesh...
so that they... become sweeter...
               i'm not a scientist... i was born yesterday...
i don't need arithmetically correct explanations
when i'm digging for awe...

but these are the five pillars of the art of cooking:
water, fire, salt, time & fat...

III.

and do think... the Roman equivalent of 3 (III)
is oh so similar to the Cyrillic Ш
either an "W" or a lying, lazy E....
while the shch (szcz) Щ is only a -sh-
  with an addition of a comma...
as a diacritical detail Щ = Ш + ,
   (makeshift Hebrew Yod)...
pause or interruption?!
                                 but "my" people don't say
SHA... they just utter -SH-...
               i wish i could ask St. Cyril and St. Methodius
about the "other" Щ -
the common excavated -ść
via examples like: dość (enough!)
świt: sunrise...
                    words escape me...
          in my mind:
they're escaping my mind like birds:
like sparrows in their highest flight...

     kość - bone...

hmm... there was something here i was
supposed to excavate... not this... this is but a side-note...
let me unravel my "thinking"...
this spaghetti entanglement...
ah! now i know... i need to keep it fresh
in my mind... sometimes it happens...
a poems lies dormant for centuries...
then a reader happens to read the poem while
listening to some piece of music...
and his life... coincides with the poem...
and the music gives up its double emphasis...
hey presto! a perfect storm...

what am i talking about?
poem X from Ovid's book I of the ****** poems...
mixed with KORTEZ; stare drzewa... old trees...
i will not recite the entire poem...
i don't want to...
as i'm drinking i'm not even bound
to an anchor of wallowing...
some people have these beautiful moments
having had children...
i too have "children"... moments like these...

but i'm seemingly unburdened by having any
"responsibility"...
just these artistic details to mind...
the song is playing... while i'm rereading...
you'll hardly hear anything verbatim...
just what i will ease my heart to pick and choose...

i too have my biases...
having broken the chains of love with
the simplicity on the altar of prostitution...

let's recite...

     i had all the parallels for you...
                 the cause of war...
                      i got nervous at bulls and eagles...
your profile leaves me cold...
because you keep nagging for presents...
that's what turns me off...
                 at first your were guileless...
  but now now this inner's flaw's eclipsed your looks...
neither mother nor son are military experts...
soldiers' pay: is not for unwarlike gods..
            
tonight's not the night to finish this musing
off of on some "briefly"... "some other night"...
this life is too spectacular to begin with...
     hungry-man thinks nothing else
beside thinking about food...
                         there's this cheese on toast...
and some marmite...
what am i thinking?!
          
it's being asked i detest...
                    quit wanting: and i'll give...
            close encounters...
what's supposed and what's inhibited...
these third encounters of a morally reprehensible:
nudge... some of the details of "thought"...
counter to... thought is no wedding with
nakedness.... you can't...
attire yourself with thoughts...

with the death of the governing body:
i subject myself: subdue with a wilt... the hiding
of a garden or roses...
and rosemary.. thyme...
          and all the celestial scents
so bothersome...
   to make monks arrogant...
                        i clasp my hands together:
whisper for sparrows...
and the morning sun for song...
and wait...
               for someone to speak
Deutsche...
                                    me: sooner...
                               you: the latter source...
jetzt! lassen uns tanz!
            tanz! tanz! mutterfucker!
tanz!
                     sie besser tanz: ficker...
tanz: vor ich trimmen ihre
     waffen und beine aus...
                                            von dein karosserie!
under Lex Cincia...
              
III.

oh man oh boy oh god oh perhaps woman...
how i'm trying to find yesterday:
in relation to not having finished the poem -
by "chapter" three i'm walking through an abandoned
house... my self has split into multiple selves
as squat-ers...

    i'm trying to relive that special moment in time
when i read 1.10 from Ovid's ****** poems
(book one. poem ten)
   and found a suitable song to go along with it...
KORTEZ's stare drzewa... old trees...
but the moment is gone...
         i wish i had finished and fallen asleep happily...

today i was painting the fence with obstructions
from within myself... because watching the tennis
became more important...
          
i'm trying to get back into some sort of mood...
switching between Natalie Merchant... song?
Carnival from the album Tigerlily...
                i'm mixing that with Tales under the Oak -
the Toad King...
          Dungeon Synth?! seriously?! well... only from
Germany... that must be said...

after my bicycle accident i took to the road once more...
i have to admit... i felt shaky...
a headache came back... i could feel all the once
apparent wounds not almost fully healed
re-bruise my body... but i cycled on...
i was never going to give up my first love...
i sometimes wish swimming was my first love...

but no...
cycling is my first love...
    walking my second
  and swimming my third...
   i never cared much for running: because it was usually
running for a bus or a train...
and i will never own a driving license...
never... i like buses... i don't like cars...
the best i could do is own a motorcycle...
and given my bicycle accident...
swerve: pothole... get nudged by a car...
oh man... that falling across my handlebars
must have looked impressive...
like when Walter Sickert influenced Francis Bacon...
my face scraping the tarmac...
i was slightly tipsy... though...
so... first lesson: is usually the last lesson...
never attempt to cycle tipsy...

   2nd lesson: overcome fear by cycling tipsy...
as i was today... a few beers in...
but i thought: wow... not this bicycle is truly mine...
it's truly mine because i just had an accident on it...
i own this bicycle... we're entwined...
i even left several signatures of blood on it...
but... i'll wash the off tomorrow:
i need to finish painting the fence...
the artificial grass is almost done...
the slabbing completed...
   i need to change the handlebar tape and change
the breaks... i seriously managed to erode so much
rubber that no wonder i feel the need to squeeze
harder... eh... London traffic, what do you expect?!

also? a rat infestation... because?
my new Nigerian neighbours... well... just the old guy...
thought it was a good idea to leave
bread and trimmings in the garden
for his "beloved" pigeons... ******* beloved pigeons...
no rats in Africa?!
the kitchen is a mess... but i have one...
scuttling... rats are not mice...
                they're ingenious buggers...
the cheese is gone... the mouse-trap snapped...
i hate those things... i once had a mice problem
in the attic... bad timing... the poor thing died
from a broken jaw... it bled out like...
that Ukrainian butcher of Rostov...
                                       through the a shot in the head...
it must have taken about two weeks
for him to die when he was dragged into a cell
and shot in the back of the head...
same with this mouse... death by a broken jaw...
horrible stuff...

i mean: i had a mouse problem once when in Ediniburgh,
if you could get hold of Ilona...
she would tell you... the pretty defenceless thing
hid in my wardrobe...
i created this maze... with a trap at the end...
caught it... trapped it... held it up by its tail...
Ilona was all giggly...
       i went out with it to the tenement landing...
let it loose onto the stairs...
memories of childhood...
   what memories? i once had a hamster...
took it outside... this sadistic boy encouraged me
to drop my hamster down the stairs:
saying: it would survive the fall...
so i dropped my hamster...
it fell and its nose starting bleeding...
i took it home crying...
  parachute! there was supposed to be a parachute!
right... but with this mouse?
full circle... i atoned for my naiveness...
i placed the mouse on the landing...
the mouse jumped one stair down... and then?!
a... a... *******: LEAP OF FAITH...

well... that was much easier...
i walked back into the bedroom and Ilona asked:
what did you do with the mouse?!
oh... it committed suicide...
that's revenge for that ******* who said my hamster
would survive the fall...
children should not own critters...
animals smaller than them...
dogs?! cats?! fine... but hamsters... rabbits?!
no no no...definitely not hamsters!
some ******* Jeffrey Dahmer types might just be
spawning... i remember that kid...
thick glasses... freckles...
i'd love to castrate him: right now...
curly hair... hell... forget castrating him...
i'd love to head-**** him and break his nose...
in such a way that he might lose his sense of smell...

that's when i realised... when that mouse i wanted
to let go decided to jump off...
i was atoning... i made a full circle
with a past grief... that's when i became a father
unto myself... of course i still had a father
to dictate rules to me concerning a work ethic
and ambition... but that was the moment
i became a father to the child of memory i once was...
no silly idiot was whispering in my ear
about how a hamster could survive a fall...
from the time i "purposively" dropped it...
i just let the mouse go... and it decided....
suicide was the better option: the only option...

i only feel relief from both memories...
15 years down the line...
how? i'm not going to use the standard mouse-trap
procedure... not after seeing this one
mouse i found in the attic bleeding
to death from a broken jaw...
       it broke my heart...
               and... hardly being in love...
         there's no other option: i wouldn't mind
if a cat killed it... at least there would be a hierarchy...
of consequences...
i wouldn't mind if the rat was simply nibbling
on dry lasagne sheets...
but when it comes to biting into plastic...
and cables... i don't want to replace my dishwasher
or my washing machine...
the next best option? poison... like sugar for humans...
i don't need to see another rodent dead
from crushed teeth... it's snout mutilated...
give me a clean ****...

i think Ilona sensed something was changing
in me... when i casually said: oh, it committed, suicide...
it was casual then:
but given enough time: there was nothing
casual about it...

IV.

i believe it's not patois if i insert some Cyrillic into
the Latin script of the Western Slavic zunge of
******:
              щur!       too many consonants, no?
i.e. szczur... i.e. rat?! ergo? щur!
we're still communication on an even level playing
field...
what was i listening to and what was i reading
that made me feel so... "nostalgic"?
i need to sample some snippets of Ovid...

1. because you keep nagging for presents...
2. that's what turns me off...
3. what's 3?

    i can't over-quote him... people need to forrage
themselves... i'm not going to be either lasso
or gatekeeper...
          
some "questioning" about the pocketing
of bribes...
    so "here", or "there"... or "other"...
                toward the "Arctic" one in spun
in some petty defiance...
this sinking ship of this last thought...
this one last gasp of air
before the final tombstone riddle of
a breath that drons the lungs
with salty waters..

             i will not cite any more Ovid:
i'll keep him to myself...
not as a gatekeeper... more akin to:
if you were to love him as much as i do...
you'd follow your sorry-*** to engage
with his outpourings than simply sit
idle assed: not asked: never asked!

V.

the moon started blinking through his crescent
spetacle...
i almost felt to be in love in love..
****... i can't be any longer...
burn the ribbons, the tiers....
the ribbons and the kites...
             burn all things hybrid into the fuckinng
ground;
yes... this is enough.
vonny Apr 2020
the mouse started off like any ordinary mouse

annoying, small, and persistent.

the nymph tried to take good care of him, and he was treasured to her.

the mouse came limping back to her, after his daily battle with the world

she nursed him back to health

as the nymph cared more for the little mouse, she spurted out pellets of blood and flowers

the mouse tried to stop her

but it was too late.
i wrote this about a my friend who i used to think i liked in that way. i wrote this after i realized i didn't really like him, and it was about what our hypothetical relationship might have been. and it obviously wasn't something i wanted.
Unwanted Sep 2014
Once upon a time there was a wounded angel
it fell from heaven
and couldnt fly back because its wing was broken

So it sat there
looking around for a sign of what to do
it stayed there for days
It was starving and needed food
he looked to his left and saw a farm in the distance

He got up and limped towards it
he asked the farmer for some food
but he didnt seem to care
"What can you do for me?"
"A fallen angel can't do anything."
but the angel begged and pleads
to the farmer for anything
"You can work for me."
so the angel agreed
he lived in a horse stall
with the horse
for 3 years he fed the horse
and took some food for himself to eat
he started to forget he was an angel
and he had wings
he forgot he was a chosen person of God
He started to believe as the farmer preached
a mouse watched the whole thing
he walked out to the angel
and inspected his wings
he saw they where healed
and told the angel of these things
but for months he wouldnt believe
he told the mouse to leave
reminded him he could be free
but the mouse stayed
and tried to get him to see
the mouse slowly but surely
got the angel to believe
it flew back to heaven
and told God about the mouse that gave him back his wings
God blessed the mouse
He said,"I will give you anything."
but the mouse refused
he didnt need anything
he was happy with his life
no matter what the angel believed
God agreed
and saved the mouse a place in heaven
for when he would leave his earth life
and the mouse and God would officially met
James LR Sep 2018
Will was a mouse of tawny hue.
And as he grew he came upon
A leaf beside a silver stream.
When slithering, then creeping on

A monster snuck from olive grass
And all but asked to have his fill.
Down stream our friend did run away,
And thus escaped the brave mouse Will.

So floating on along the stream,
And wondering where he should go.
Then at a fork in brooklet bank
He took the way to forest old

Our mouse with fur of sandy brown,
The raft he grounded on the shore
And ran into the darkened wood.
From whence he would return no more.

For in the wood there lived a rat
Who did attack the chance to prey
Upon this humble passerby
That chanced to try to find his way

And then our mouse found destiny
And resting he was unaware
Of danger there. Rat had his fill
of Mr. Will and didn't leave a hair
I wanted to try using the trisyllabic rhyme scheme used by Tolkien in his poem "Errantry". Very hard to write in, and I probably flubbed it in some spots.
there was a little mouse he just long to be
a motorcycle rider in the isle of man tt
he bought himself a bike of the very best
took it to the racecourse to put it to the test.

now the mouse ready for his favourite race
all lined up to go mouse he took his place
then they all set off fifty maybe more
through the roads and bends they began to soar.

mouse he took it steady holding back his pace
till it was near the finish then open up and race
just a mile to go mouse he took the lead
opened up his throttle going very fast indeed.

passing all the others  with his faster pace
mouse he crossed the finish line he had won the race
now he was a rider in isle of man tt
his name his on his trophy for all the world to see
Potahtto Oct 2018
One day I saw a fluffy little mouse
Running around the perimeter of the wooden floor of my house.
It was grey, with little white stripes near its eyes.
Instead of screaming or shrieking in surprise,
I give a warm smile.
The poor rodent just needs a warm place to sleep,
And I enjoy mice anyway.
A few months had passed and I forgot all about
The little mouse that has made a nest in my empty walls.
I had just gotten a cat, a sweet and innocent little kitten.
While I was reading a book,
My cat dropped something at my feet.
It was a mouse.
A grey mouse, with little white stripes near its eyes.
I screamed in horror,
I had saved that mouse once before!
My cat had undone something I felt so proudly about.
I tried to yell at the cat,
But that wouldn’t bring the mouse back to life.
I was going to punish the kitten,
But she doesn’t understand what she did.
Was it her fault, mine, or the mouse’s?
It's more like a short story, really. I just felt like I should post something because I've been busy with school.
there was a little mouse a rescue mouse was he
to be a rescue pilot is what he long to be
he got an helicopter  so people he could save
he was very clever and very very brave
one day while he was flying he came across a boat
bobbing up and down it couldnt keep afloat
mouse he could see the boat was in distress
when  suddenly his radio gave an sos
mouse went into action and flew above the deck
with his rescue rope hanging from his neck
it was his friend the badger who went out for a sail
when suddenly the engines they began to fail
mouse he got his rope and pulled  the boat ashore
badger he was happy  on land again once more
mouse set of again and flew in to the sky
waving to the badger as he said goodbye
Lexi Cairns Feb 2014
"Dear Mr. Mouse,
I understand that you're just trying to keep warm, and you're welcome to stay under the couch. But please refrain from coming into Daniels room or running under my feet when I'm in the house. Thank you. Amen."
"Did you just "amen" the mouse?"
"Yes. I have a very pantheistic view of the world, therefore the mouse is an extension of God and it makes perfect sense that I would end with "Amen.""
"What if the mouse is an atheist?"
"Well then maybe he'll still be flattered that I would think so highly of him."
"Or maybe you'll have ****** him off."
I laid awake in bed until the early hours of the morning, and every sound I heard that night was the pitter patter of little mouse feet- he had received the letter, and, being horribly offended, was coming to exact his revenge.
A lonely mouse
In a lonely house
With a lonely piece of bread
A lonely philosopher
On his lonely bed
With the lonely thoughts in his head!
It was a queer coincidence
Though both of them aloof
They were in true essence
Were living under one roof!
The philosopher gave a laugh
Shaking his disheveled head
‘Mere thoughts are not enough,
I can’t live without bread’!
The mouse whined in regret
‘It’s really no good
Such is my fate
I only think of food’!
The philosopher without bread
Not a word he could carve
With no thoughts in its head
The mouse didn’t starve!
The philosopher thought the mouse
He really couldn’t befriend
Though they shared the same house
They couldn’t unite in the end!
If only they could share
With each other thoughts and bread
It could be a great affair
In the way fairytales are made!
But they never made a start
The philosopher and the mouse
And lived poles apart
In the lonely decrepit house!
there was a little mouse a sailor mouse was he
he built himself a boat to sail the deep blue sea
he packed up some things a compass and a guide
to see what the world was like on the otherside.

suddenly he heard a loud and great big splash
then there in the distance he saw a silver flash.

it was a little mermaid she was very lost
she had lost her way when in a wave was tossed
mouse was very clever and new what to do
i will use my compass and find your home for you.

after quite some time an hour maybe two
he saw some mermaids swimming there were
quite a few

mermaid she was happy she was home once more
back to all her family where she was before.
mouse he said goodbye his adventure had been fun
mermaid thanked the mouse for all that he had done.
there was a little mouse a rescue mouse was he
to be a rescue pilot is what he long to be
he got an helicopter  so people he could save
he was very clever and very very brave.

one day while he was flying he came across a boat
bobbing up and down it couldnt keep afloat
mouse he could see the boat was in distress
when  suddenly his radio gave an sos.

mouse went into action and flew above the deck
with his rescue rope he flew above the wreck
it was his friend the badger who went out for a sail
when suddenly the engines they began to fail.

mouse he got his rope and pulled  the boat ashore
badger he was happy  on land again once more
mouse set of again and flew in to the sky
waving to the badger as he said goodbye
there was a little man in a little house

all he had for company was a little mouse

everywhere he went the little mouse would go

even in the rain and the wind and snow



oneday he woke up. the mouse began to sneeze

and his little chest it began to wheeze

he built a little box for  a little bed

made a little pillow for his little head.



then he made some blankets to give the mouse some heat

tucked the mouse in bed tucked up nice and neat

then he made a potion to take the germs away

to help the mouse get better once more they could play



next day mouse recovered well again once more

mouse was fit and well again like he was before

the little man was happy he still had a friend

a lovely little tale with an happy end
i saw a little mouse chewing on some cheese
then suddenly the mouse he began to sneeze
his eyes they were running and his nose was too
the poor little mouse he had caught the flu
i made a little bed and  i put him in
with lots and lots of straw in a biscuit tin
i kept him nice and warm and  i stroked his head
gave him lots of food making sure that he was fed
two days they had past and now the mouse was well
just  so very tired so off to sleep he fell
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
To a Mouse
by Robert Burns
translation/modernization/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sleek, tiny, timorous, cowering beast,
Why’s such panic in your breast?
Why dash away, so quick, so rash,
In a frenzied flash
When I would be loath to run after you
With a murderous plowstaff!

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
And justifies that bad opinion
Which makes you startle,
When I’m your poor, earth-bound companion
And fellow mortal!

I have no doubt you sometimes thieve;
What of it, friend? You too must live!
A random corn-ear in a shock's
A small behest; it-
‘ll give me a blessing to know such a loss;
I’ll never miss it!

Your tiny house lies in a ruin,
Its fragile walls wind-rent and strewn!
Now nothing’s left to construct you a new one
Of mosses green
Since bleak December’s winds, ensuing,
Blow fast and keen!

You saw your fields laid bare and waste
With weary winter closing fast,
And cozy here, beneath the blast,
You thought to dwell,
Till crash! The cruel iron ploughshare passed
Straight through your cell!

That flimsy heap of leaves and stubble
Had cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you’re turned out, for all your trouble,
Less house and hold,
To endure the winter’s icy dribble
And hoarfrosts cold!

But mouse-friend, you are not alone
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes of Mice and Men
Go oft awry,
And leave us only grief and pain,
For promised joy!

Still, friend, you’re blessed compared with me!
Only present dangers make you flee:
But, ouch!, behind me I can see
Grim prospects drear!
While forward-looking seers, we
Humans guess and fear!

Published by the English department of St. John’s College High School. Excerpted in an essay by Galkina Karolina, Institute of Humanities, Borys Grinchenko Kyiv University, Ukraine, and published on the university’s website. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, mouse, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, schemes, mice, men, agley, awry, nature, field, plow, den, home, modern English



Hugh MacDiarmid wrote "The Watergaw" in a Scots dialect. I have translated the poem into modern English to make it easier to read and understand. A watergaw is a fragmentary rainbow.

The Watergaw
by Hugh MacDiarmid
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

One wet forenight in the sheep-shearing season
I saw the uncanniest thing—
a watergaw with its wavering light
shining beyond the wild downpour of rain ...
and I thought of the last wild look that you gave
when you knew you were destined for the grave.

There was no light in the skylark's nest
that night—no—nor any in mine;
but now often I've thought of that foolish light
and of these more foolish hearts of men ...
and I think that maybe at last I ken
what your look meant then.

Keywords/Tags: Scotland, Scot, Scottish, Scots dialect, night, nightfall, rain, grave, death, death of a friend, light, lights, watergaw, heart, heartache, broken heart, heart song
there was a little mouse an athelete was he
and some day a star he just long to be
he just love gymnastics trampoline and floor
doing lots of flips through the air would soar

he trained very hard each and everyday
olympics they were looming not vey far away
now the mouse was ready for his challenge to begin
mouse he took the floor hoping he could win.

the music started playing he began to dance
twisting turns and somersaults then a little prance
the judges marked the scores and he got the best
highest of them all he had beat the rest

then on the trampoline doing tricks galore
people they all loved him and shouted out for more
mouse had done his best his routine it was done
they marked his score again the little mouse had won

now  he was a star like he longed to be
there in all the history books for everyone to see.
there was once a leprecaun who lived in donegal
he lived in a cave beneath a waterfall
always very friendly with manners so polite
he just loved to stroll beneath the pale moonlight.

while he was on his travels through the valley green
he saw a big bright light the that he had never seen
walking in the beam to see what it could be
he saw a great big lighthouse shining out to sea.

inside he saw his friend a funny little mouse
he had crawled inside and made himself a house
mouse had put the lights on. so  he get around
to brighten up his home that the mouse had found.

leprecaun he laughed at what the mouse had done
giggled with delight he found it so much fun.
mouse he settled down as happy as can be
in his home with lights that  shone across the sea.
Ally Sep 2013
Here we are again
We're caught up in this dangerous game for two
Playing our sick game, hoping the other will loose
Spinning left to right, we pick up the fight
I chase you and you chase me
It's the same old thing.
You beg and then I plead
Neither of us willing to give up the lead
We switch from time to time
And of course there are several altercations
Because you are the Cat and I am the Mouse,
we don't belong together, you see.
Try as we might, we always fight
You want the milk and I want the cheese
We never seem to agree.
But here we are again, picking up our dance
Wishing that this time it might actually last
Because you are the Cat and I am the Mouse,
we don't belong together, you see.
But this time you hoped and this time I agreed,
that the Cat and the Mouse could actually be together
The music decrescendos, the tango is done.
The Cat and Mouse walk out, side by side, as one.
there was a little mouse he just long to be

driving racing cars go down in history

he took some driving lessons on the driving course

going very fast faster than a horse.



now the mouse was ready he would do his best

put his driving lessons to the racing test

he lined up on the grid mouse in second place

then the flag went up it was time to race



mouse he saw his chance and quickened up the pace

now he was in front and could win the race

the chequered flag was waved as he went flying through

he had won the race his dream it had come true.



now he was a champ in the hall of fame

and in all the history books mouse he had his name
Beaux Oct 2013
At some point
The flaws of reality bored me
So I turned to the mousehole just to my right
When I looked inside I saw what one would expect
A mouse in its hole living its existence
It has no plan for when it leaves
What responsibility does a mouse have?
What bills must you pay?
Whose heart do you break?
How significant are you?
I stared and stared and stared
As the mouse moved from left to right to left again
He wasn't anything like the cartoons
Just another flawed bit of reality in a house never called home
Stepping away
I sit in the chair angled towards his home
Cleverly sitting Indian style
There I sat for an hour, waiting for change
If everything else in this world is so unique
What be of this mouse and his hole?
Emerging its head to look about
Slowly his body pulled from the wall
Suddenly he sat in front the doorway of his home
Protective and honest was he
How silly I was to judge a mouse
When really it had been judging me
The Terry Tree Aug 2014
Spirit Mouse

Invisible Mouse
Discovering quietness
Your wisdom small
Examines places
Uncovering truth
Underground
Truth uncovering places
Examines small wisdom
Your quietness
Discovering
Mouse invisible

Balancing are details
When we analyze life in
Simple tasks those become harder
And feel overwhelms
Reminding that power is
Tenacious
Is power that reminding overwhelms
Feel and harder become those
Tasks simple in life
Analyze we
When details are balancing

Timid and shy make
Anxieties risen when
Everything falls out of order
Tell the mind to calm down
Observed what's around
Perception
Around what's observed
Down, calm to mind
The tell order of out
Falls everything when
Risen anxieties make shy and timid

Magic of adaption
Resourceful at hand
Originalities are key
Existing in difficult moments
Surviving, thriving, spiritually diving into
Connection
Into diving
Spiritually thriving, surviving
Moments difficult in existing
Key are originalities hand
At resourceful adaption of magic

Alchemist is journey
Your medicine and science
Teaching with logical alliance
Trustworthy is earning and
Proven is nature
Authenticatable
Nature is proven
And earning is trustworthy
Science and medicine
Your journey is
Alchemist

Bold and lively
Resistance to capture
Ruthless to meet needs
Finer details meaning chaos
Lost within walls of
Fundamentals
Of walls
Lost within chaos
Meaning details' finer needs
Meet to ruthless capture
To resistance lively and bold

Careful best are words
Listening and thinking
Consideration for safety
Brings happiness and light
In darkest of holes
Illuminating
Holes of darkness in
Light and happiness
Brings safety for consideration
Thinking and listening
Words are best careful

Spirit our Mouse guide perspectives
Step away dream to attention
Open mysterious doors
Carving escape to
Plan the adventure for
Prosperity
For adventure
The plan to escape
Carving doors mysterious
Open attention to dream away
Step perspectives
Guide Mouse our Spirit

© tHE tERRY tREE
Poetic Form | Palindrome
David Nelson Jul 2010
A Key, an Envelope, and a Mouse

I had just gone to the mail box, to pick up the mail
riding in my golf cart, with my mouse by my side

the key was in my left hand, when I tried dodging a snail
I tipped to the left, then to the right, everything I tried

the key flew away, I grabbed my mouse by the tail
but it was no use, watched a pole and my cart collide

the envelope squirted the other way, reaching to no avail
I bounced out the other side, and landed right on my pride

I was lying flat on my back , with my arms I did flail
I hurt my neck, no my arm, no, I think I might have died

maybe I had to much to drink, just one too many ale
maybe it was actually more, my brain was pretty fried

people were now starting to gather, wondered if I needed bail
they were gasping, and yelling, help him up somebody cried

the mouse was licking my face, I heard someone mention jail
could not get my *** to budge, no matter how hard I tried

the envelope was stuck to my head, so was a roofing nail
think I must have wet myself, an idiot, this can't be denied

the key was found up my ****, when removed I started to wail
holy mama mia I yelled, it was stuck and had to be pryed

tipped my cart back on its wheels, the engine sang a funny scale
you sure that you're ok, I'm just fine, you know I lied

grabbed my key, my envelope and mouse, and outa there I hi-tail
pretended nothing had happend, and continued on my ride    

Gomer LePoet...
i saw a little mouse chewing on some cheese
then suddenly the mouse he began to sneeze
his eyes they were running and his nose was too
the poor little mouse he had caught the flu
i made a little bed and  i put him in
with lots and lots of straw in a biscuit tin
i kept him nice and warm and  i stroked his head
gave him lots of food made sure  he was fed
two days they had past and now the mouse was well
just very very tired so off to sleep he fell
there was a little mouse snooker was his game
and to be a champion was is only aim
he bought himself a cue and a little case
hoping maybe oneday to be a snooker ace

he praticed day and night doing lots of shots
chalking up his cue practicing his pots
now his time had to come ready to compete
to be a snooker star and make his life complete

getting to the final he had beat the rest
now it was the time to see who would be best
mouse he was on form and used all his skill
crowd they all applauded he gave them such a thrill

in the final frame mouse took every ball
clearing the table mouse he took them all
now he was the champ he had made is name
a snooker ace forever in the hall of fame
Brent Kincaid Jun 2015
Micah The Mouse was a rat;
At least that’s how he behaved.
If he didn’t get his way every time
He’d holler and he’d rant and rave.
He got to be such a big mouse
That his head swelled up too.
He became so hugely obnoxious
Other mice didn’t know what to do.

They held a spontaneous election.
They needed to elect a top mouse.
Micah bribed the weaker leaders
So, Micah got the run of the house.
He kept up his pattern of bribery
And threatening those in his way.
Without anything like scruples
He’s still on the throne to this day

Micah The Mouse takes with both hands
And it’s too bad if anyone disagrees.
Those who think he cares about complaints
Will spend a lot of time on their knees.

In Micah got horrendously fat
By overeating just a tiny smidge.
He got to be so much like a big rat
He grew too heavy to cross the bridge.
So he roared and ranted and raved.
And blamed everybody around him.
That he was the cause of his problems
Seemed to completely astound him.

The wonder in all of this sad story
Is why the other mice could not see
That Micah was only in it for himself
And not for members of the citizenry.
Micah got to eat while others starved.
He got what he wanted, moved on
Yet somehow those that elected him
Never quite seemed to catch on.

Micah The Mouse takes with both hands
And it’s too bad if anyone disagrees.
Those who think he cares about complaints
Will spend a lot of time on their knees.

(Image from www.sharktacos.com)
Obadiah Grey Dec 2013
Sphincter factor nine approaches
food for the fish n roaches
methinks its time for me perhaps
to open up the rearward *****.


------------------------------------
AAChoo !!

Oh, liddle sister, Josephine,
you sure don't keep your
nose real clean.
got stalactites
o' pure pea green
my infectious sibling
snot machine.
----------------------------------------
I thought that I might shoot the breeze
with God or Mephistopheles
and ask them please to ease my wheeze
of my bad back and dodgy knees
---------------------------
Croak with the raven
bluff with the crow
the urchin
the field mouse
beneath the hedgerow
in a flurry they scurry
away away go.
Yelp with the *****
howl with the hound
and bay at the moon
till the sun comes around.
------------------------------------------
Gino's bar and grill.

Away, away afore Bacchus
doles out befuddlement
and Morpheus has his way,
lest I awake to find myself
in the company of
sodamistic bedfellows
with buggery in mind.
---------------------------------
Harry Potter has grown a beard
he lives alone and turned out weird.
Dumbledore, Albus, no more
turned his toes and 'ad a snore,
Voldemort, who's *** is taut
has no nose with which to snort.
====================

Ahem !!

Behind two Lilies- sits Rose,
then Daisies
for two and a bit rows.
with Poppy, and *****
Petunia, Primrose.
and Bryony - who gets up
- my nose.
----------------------------------------------
Amen.
God bless the Cows - for beef burgers.
God bless the Pig - for their bacon.
God bless the wife n her sharp knife
for the slice of their **** she's taken.

-------------------------------------------------
We can, no more fetter the sea to the shore
nor the clouds to the sky
or tether the glint
in a lovers eye,
As sure as the shore loves the sea
so shall I love thee, together,
together for eternity,

-----------------------------------

It bends for thee
sweet chevin,
the cane thats cleaved
by three,
wilt thou now
sweet chevin
yield, my friend ,
for me.
-------------------------------------------------
There's Marmalade then Marmite
and Jams thats jammed between
the buttered bread of bard-dom
a poets sweet cuisine.
---------------------------------------------
I took up campanology
and fired up my ****.
I rang that bell
to ******* hell
till the busies
came along.
--------------------------------------------
so, I've been whittling away
at a buoyant ****-
fashioned something approximating
a poo canoe-
in it, I intend to
surf the **** tsunami of old age
to-- death;
I have named it Public - Service - Pension.


----------------------------------------------

A surreptitious delightful tryst,
with my honey, my sebaceous cyst.
she's my pimple, my wart,
my gumboil consort.
she's the zip, in which
my *******, got caught.
--------------------------------------
Frayed at the bottoms
ripped at the knee.
baggy and saggy
big enough for three.
faded and jaded
and stained with ***
but I'm due for a new pair--
Yippeeeee!!

---------------------------------------

Ther­e's Cockerel in my ear
and he bills and coo's for you
whenever you are near
goes - **** a doodle doo !!!!!,,,,,,,,

---------------------------------------------

Oh,­ for the snap shut skin
in the blue twang of youth
and to un-crack the spine
on the book of love.
now the gulping years
have flown away
we take sips of the night
and are spoon fed the day.

-----------------------------

Zeus made the Moose to be somewhat obtuse,
a big deer- rather queer- I fear.
then God gave him the nod to look funny and odd
the spitting image of you - my dear !!!

---------------------------------------

Knobbly Nobby.

Nobby has a great big nose
a great big nose has he,
and nobby knows
that his big nose,
is big, as big can be,
nobby has two knobbly knees
two knobbly knees has he,
his knobbly knees,
are as knobely
as knobbly knees can be,
don’t pity dear old nobby
for soon it’s plain to see,
that nobby has a great big ****
as big, as big as three !
now nobbys **** is knobly,
as knobly as a **** can be,
so nose and knee and ****
make three,
and we - are ****- ely.

----------------------------------

The Woman that wouldn't eat meat,
had reeaally, reeaally big feet,
her **** was as big as an hermaphrodite brig
and her **** were as hard as concrete….


--------------------------------

Hearken the clarion call of the crows
afore the snow-
they caw,
hey, get your **** into gear lads-
we gotta feckin go !!!

-----------------------------

Gods pad

I took a peek within
your house
wherein on pew, I spied
a mouse,
and in his hand,
a Bible clasped,
and out his mouth,
a parable rasped,

---------------------

I'd say she had
a pigeon loft in
her eyes and
bluebells up
her nose.

But then again
I wear a flat cap

and stroll through meadows.

----------------------------

Would you care to buy our house?
It's minus Mouse n devoid o' Louse,!
Spiders, Roaches, Bugs or other,
have all been eaten by my brother,
snaffled up n swallowed down
then jus' crapped out a - yellowish brown.
so would you care to buy our house?
from an oddly pair -- devoid of nous

-------------------------

Though the Crows got her eyes
and the Worms got her gut.
comes as no surprise
death can't keep her mouth shut.

-------------------

Bevelled slick edges
and reeaal eeaasy slopes.
Chilli dip wedges
with fresh artichokes.
Wanton loose wenches
and swivel hipped ******
Daft dawgs and dentures
and granddad - who snores.

-------------------

Been whittling away at a buoyant ****
and fashioned something approximating a canoe,
in it, I intend to surf the **** tsunami of old age;
I named it, "Public service pension"

-------------------------------

.
Well,
     I could wax on the wings of a butterfly
but, I ain't that kind o' guy.
rather kick the nuts off ******* squirrels
pluck the wings off - blue assed fly.
I'm the stuff that flops off dog chops
when he's up for it and high.
an infection in your sphincter,
a well
that's jus' run dry.

----------------------------------------------

befeathered­ and bright scarlet
is my ladies bonnet,
jauntily askew and -
lilting on a paramours
grin.

"- Gladlaughffi -"

I'm reliably informed that dear ol' Muma
sported a goatee around his **** sphincter,
now, whilst this is merely educated speculation
from my esteemed friend his "groom of the stool" ! 
who was in fact required to wear a mask,
ear muffs and a blindfold whilst he went about his business,
He did possess reeaaally sensitive fingertips
somewhat akin to a blind man reading brail,,
and, swore blind that said "**** sphincter' spoke him in Arabic
and asked him for a quick trim, (short back and sides)
I myself being a practising proctologist of some repute
am inclined to believe my friend the "groom of the stool"
as I've come recognise -- Arsolian when I hear it !!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------

In a Belfast sink by the plughole
where hair and gum gunk meet
'erman the germ-man  and toe jam
bop the bacillus beat.

________

Doctor this I know as fact
that I have a blocked digestive tract,
I'm all bunged up and cannot go
my trump and pump is - somewhat slow.
I need unction jollop for junction wallop
some sorta lotion to give me motion.
If you could please just ease my wheeze
then I needn't grunt and push and squeeze.

-----------------------------

They are breaking out the thwacking sticks
and sparking Godly clogs
pulling tongues through narrowed lips
at the infidel yankee dogs.

------------------------------------

As a paid up member of the
lumpen bourgeoisie poetry appreciation society
I can confirm without fear of contradiction
that poetry is indeed baggy underwear
with ample ball room, voluminous in the extreme
and takes into account
the need for the free flow of flatulent gassiness
that is the want of a ****** up poet.

-----------------------------------------------

She's a rough hewn Trapezoidal gal
a gongoozler o' the ol' canal.
She's copper bottomed n fly boat Sal.

I'll have thee know that
that there hat
is a magic hat,
it renders me invisible
to the arty intelligentsia
and roots me firmly
in the lumpen proletariat .
-------------------------------------------------------
Said the sneaky Scotsman, Jim Blaik.
if the pension, you wish to partake,
bend over my son, lets get this thing done
and cop for this thick trouser snake !!

I met my uncle Albert,
down at Asda, in aisle three;
he got there in a Mazda,
jus' a smidgen after me,
said he'd traversed Sainsburys,
Tesco Liddle n the Spar,
but not one o' them flogged Caviar
Truffles or Foie gras.


He sidled past the pork pies
streaky bacon turkey thighs
a headin for the french fries
n forsaken knock down buys,
shimmied 'round the ankle biters;
expectant mums to be,
popin pills for bloated ills
in the haberdashery.

Fandango'd o'er the cornflakes
and the spillage in isle four

-----------------

I'm linier and analogue,
a ribbon microphone man
mired in the dust of the monochromatic,
the basement, the attic.

------------------------------

Simple simon met miss Tymon going to the fair,
said simple simon to miss Tymon - "pfhwarr what a luverly pair"
of silken thighs and big brown eyes and scrumptious wobbly bits,
Said simple Simon to miss Tymon---------- shame about you **** !!!

So sad sweet Shirl thought she'd give a whirl to clubbercise n pound

Squat, slightly,
tilt head 45°
and squint.
See the shimmering blurry
dot in the distance?
That, timorous ****,
is ME !
Fast twitching my
narrow white ****
to the pub.

There was a young lady named Sue.
whose ***** and **** was askew,
whilst taking a ****
she'd aim it and miss
and she lifted 'er hat when she blew.


Oh Mon Dieu !!

Obi.
there was  little mouse an actor mouse was he
he long to go to hollywood for an actor star to be
he took a screening test  to see if he could get  the part
to get in to the film this would be a start
the director saw his acting  and gave the mouse a chance
the movie was a musical and he would have to dance
the mouse he said his lines  and gave it all his heart
the director was impressed now he had the leading part
the film it was a hit and had a packed full house
they came from miles just to see the little mouse
now he was a star of the silver screen
the greatest little actor the world has ever seen.
Julie Grenness Mar 2016
I prayed to God in the silent house,
In the quiet stillness, in came a mouse,
Yes, in scuttled Horatio the Mouse,
Sardonic God has sent me a mouse,
So, a little fur friend,
God's blessings don't end,
This mouse is way too hyperactive,
I ask, does it come from a mouse collective?
Is Horatio pregnant? think twice.
Shall I be plagued by furry mice?
I bought poison and mousetraps, too bad,
Is the mouse collective about to be sad?
Thus spake God, in the silent dark house,
"I shall send you a fur friend mouse?"
The real world,  in came the mouse. Feedback welcome.
dennis gunsteen Dec 2010
don't you worry little mouse.
don't  you cry  
little mouse
santa ,
going to give .
rocking horse.
an some cheese
on christmas eve
don't you  worry little mouse.
santa  going give little house.
on christmas eve.
don't you cry little mouse.
santa give a rocking horse
an piece of cheese
on christmas eve .

reepeat verse 4times that the song
there was a little mouse he just love to ski
all around the mountains the sporty type was he
he took a trip to switzerland were all the skiers go
so the mouse could ski through the winter snow

skiing very fast down the mountain side
skiing in and out as he began to slide
people gathered round just to watch him ski
he was very clever a clever mouse was he

the children they all loved him has he put on his show
skiing down the mountains as fast as he could go
they held a competiton to see who was the best
mouse he had a go so he could take the test

now the time had come for mouse to have a go
to see who was the fasted skiing through the snow
mouse he started skiing as fast as fast can be
mouse he won the race the fasted one was he

people start clapping as he lifted up his prize
mouse filled up inside with teardrops in his eyes
he was very happy his dream it had come true
he had won the race just like he wanted to
there was a little mouse he just loved to stroll
he was always happy a friendly little soul
he just loved to walk along the forest track
passing on his time walking there and back.

oneday on his travels as he was walking by
from behind a tree he heard a little cry
mouse he looked around to see what it could be
he saw his friend the mole very sad was he.

mole he had got stuck when his hole fell in
poor mole was stuck right up to his chin
mouse began to dig all around the hole
to free his little friend poor little soul.

mouse he kept on digging till the mole was free
mole began to smile happy now was he
now he had his freedom he was trapped no more
then of they went together along the forest floor.
Mark Jun 2020
A COLOURFUL FRUIT BLAST        
From the 1st diary entry of Stewy Lemmon's childhood adventures.            
            
Hi, my name is Stewy Lemmon and I’m your normal, everyday, friendly, country boy, who lives about 2 hours away from the big city lights. My family’s home is nestled amongst the trees on a hill in a little country village called, 'Shimmerleedimmerlee'.

It's located just a little north west from the famous town of Bearfeet Ridge. Famous of course, because of the mysterious and rarely seen yellow tailed bear family, that is said to inhabit the nearby treed mountain range. The town's people have even given the rarely seen bear family sightings, a nickname called, 'Bearfeet Yellow Tales'.            
              
My family is made up of one much younger brother, named Lemmy; two much older, identical, twin sisters named, Emma and Jemma, and my proud parents, Archie and Flo.            
              
On Christmas day this year, I received a pet mouse as one of my presents. I quickly named him Smoochy, after he suddenly jumped up and kissed me on the cheek, then fell into my top left-hand side pocket. From that moment on, I knew that Smoochy and I, would have such fun times and great adventures together.            
              
This Christmas afternoon was especially hot, so my Mum Flo cut up some healthy and yummy assorted fruit for the family, as a snack and placed it on the table, which was placed in between, the two large trees in the backyard.

I especially love bananas, apples, oranges, grapes and lots of watermelon mixed together in my bowl. I named this creation 'A colourful fruit-blast'. It’s so much fun to eat, although, my little brother Lemmy only likes bananas in his bowl, with a dash of sweet honey.            
              
My two much older identical twin sisters named, Emma and Jemma, love to eat only green celery sticks and plain yogurt on hot days. Smoochy also ate some of my delicious, colourful fruit-blast and even drank a little of my icy, strawberry flavoured, thick shake, through his very own, home-made straw.

My Dad Archie, is very handy at making things out of wood, metal and even plastic and loves to paint unusual designs on whatever he makes. Dad does all of his, building and painting in his unusually built and outrageously painted backyard, outback shed.            
              
So, after he had some of Mum's afternoon fruit snack, Dad built a mouse house, for my grouse, new pet, mouse called, Smoochy. Dad even hand painted it with such colourful flair, from using his artistic nous. But, when I placed Smoochy, into his newly painted, mouse house, the paint wasn't dry enough, and he got yellow paint all over his, oh-so-cute tail.  
  
After my Dad Archie, had finished the grouse, new pet, mouse house, he thought, what could he make for me, as a New Year’s Eve surprise present. He quickly thought of a great idea and headed off to his, unusually built and outrageously painted, outback, backyard shed.            
              
Dad was busy for days, coming and going from his backyard shed and snoring so loudly, while taking short naps on our backyard hammock.            
      
Also, Dad kept taking pieces of Mum's colourful fruit snack, but only very small amounts at a time, from her ever so clean kitchen. Then, sneaking it all back into his, very hard to say shed. You know, the one in the backyard.  
  
My Dad had finally finished building my surprise present, just in time for New Year’s Eve. Then, because we were hosting a party at our house, at about 11.50 pm, my entire family, neighbours, friends, Smoochy and I were all waiting outside, in the backyard for the clock to strike 12.00 midnight.
  
With only 10 minutes to go my Dad, rushed off to his, you know where. Yes that's right, his unusually built and outrageously painted, outback, backyard shed and brought out my surprise. You will never guess what it was, for it was radically recycled, rather refined, remarkably robust and really red. Have you guessed correctly? Anyone? No? Okay, I will tell you what it was. It was my very own really red, reusable, retro rocket.            
              
When I saw the rocket that my dad had built for me, I was over the moon with happiness and I had a smile on my dial, that felt like it was almost as long as about a mile.            
    
All of a sudden, all of my family members, neighbours, friends and I started screaming out 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1. We all shouted out together, at the top of our voices HAPPY NEW YEAR. Then my Dad helped me light my, really red, reusable, retro rocket surprise and we both stood back, to see it take off and fly into the sky. My Dad told me, it was especially built to create, a fireworks display in the night sky and then return back to us. All so we could reuse it again, for next year.
  
All of a sudden, it took off so high into the night sky, I thought my new, radically recycled, rather refined, remarkably robust, really red, reusable, retro rocket surprise, was going to the moon and may never come back down to earth.            
              
But then we heard a loud bang, the top of my rocket separated from the main body of the rocket and exploded into bright colours all over the night sky.            
              
After a while though, my entire family, our neighbours and our friends, felt things dropping onto their clean party attire. People had red blobs on their backs; yellow splats on their shirts and even some on their skirts; small orange flecks on their faces and a few people had small black bits, dropping into their top, left-hand side pockets.            
    
"It's my colourful fruit snack, coming down from the night sky", yelled Mum. So she went searching through the crowd for my Dad. When she found him, he was chuckling with laughter.

He told us all, ‘That he had packed the radically recycled, rather refined, remarkably robust, really red, reusable, retro rocket, full of Stewy's favorite fruit. Also, because fruity, firework explosives would really make the sky, so much more colourful to the eye, and ever so tasty in our mouths’.
              
My Dad wanted to make as many colours as he could for the fireworks display. He used some of Mum's colourful fruit, which included, apples, bananas, watermelons, grapes and oranges.            
              
Even Smoochy was getting hit by the furiously flying, fast falling, fantastically funny, fabulous family fruit by Flo, through the small gaps, in his newly built, freshly painted, grouse, pet mouse, house. It was the best surprise I have ever seen, come out of that unusually built and outrageously painted, backyard, outback shed.            
              
Oh, what a fun and tasty New Year's Eve party we all had, on that, oh, so wonderful and colourful fruit blast of a night, in my little country village of 'Shimmerleedimmerlee'.
© Fetchitnow
20 October 2019.
This children’s fun adventure book series, is only for children from ages, 1-100. So please enjoy.
Note: Please read these in order, from diary entry 1-12, to get the vibe of all of the characters and the colourful sense of this crazy mess.
theres a little mouse of the sporty sort
snowboarding he loved best it was his favorite sport
he took a holiday so he could have ago
all the way to Austria a land with lots of snow
took his little board and his goggles too
to protect his eyes and get a better view
he climbed up a mountain to the very top
then on to his board the little mouse would hop
sliding down the slopes going very fast
doing twists and turn while he was going passed
lots of little spins that gave it such a thrill
doing lots of tricks showing of his skill
he got to the bottom of the mountain side
coming to a stop with a gentle slide
people gathered round to see this sporty chap
they began to cheer as they began to clap
mouse he was so happy and the crowd were too
his holiday and dreams they had all come true
there was a little mouse he just longed to be
sailing on the ocean far across the sea
sailing round the world across the oceans blue
a proper sailor mouse a sailor through and through

he built himself a yacht with  big sail too
set of out to sea in search of lands a new
he packed himself some food so that he could eat
and a block of cheese his very favorite treat.

after quite sometime he saw an island shore
somewhere very new he never saw before
it was full of trees with lots of golden sand
mouse he went a shore to explore this foriegn land.

he took along a ***** to see what he could find
maybe there was treasure that was left behind
he began to dig. a treasure chest he found
hidden in the sand buried underground.

he opened up the lid on the chest so old
it had lots of things all were made of gold.
there were lots of rings and some goblets too
necklaces galore there were quite a few.

mouse took the chest put it on his yacht
it was really heavy it weighed quite a lot
now the mouse was rich and was poor no more
continued on his journey for more lands to explore.
there was a little mouse he just loved to sleigh

where ever there was snow he just loved to play.

sliding down the hills as fast as he could go

he just loved the thrill of sliding through the snow.



he took a trip to switzerland so very far away

to the land of snow where he could sleigh all day

they held a competiton to who was the best

mouse he put his name down and joined in with the rest.



mouse he took his turn he got such a thrill

now he had a chance to show off all his skill

he sat upon his sliegh and began to race

riding very fast at a speedy pace.



mouse he won the race he beat all the rest

he had used his skills and put the to the test

mouse he was so happy his dream it had come true

to win a competition is all he longed to do
there was once a leprecaun who lived in donegal
he live in a cave beneath a waterfall
always very friendly with manners so polite
he just loved to stroll beneath the pale moonlight
while he was on his travels through the valley green
he saw a big bright light the that he had never seen
walking in the beam to see what it could be
he saw a great big lighthouse shinging out to sea
inside he saw his friend a funny littlemouse
he had crawled inside and made himself a house
mouse had put the lights so  he get around
to brighten up his home that the mouse had found
leprecaun he laughed at what the mouse had done
giggled with delight he found it so much fun.
mouse he settled down as happy as can be
in home with lights that  shone across the sea
there was a little mouse from nashville tennesee
he loved country music a star he longed to be
bought a new guitar that he learned to play
singing country songs as he strummed away.

folks they gathered round as he began to sing
joy to all the folks the little mouse would bring
he wore a cowboy hat and a waist coat to
dressed just like a cowboy like country singers do.

there was a competition so mouse he had a go
sang a country somg that everyone would know
people starting clapping and dancing to his song
they were very happy as they danced along

mouse he won the contest now a star was he
now a coutry star just like he longed to be
a country singing mouse.  from nashville tennesee
there is a video on you tube with music to this story
https://youtu.be/oBF2N3iWK4I copy and paste link
A fat cat chased a tiny mouse
The mouse ran in his little house
House was a small hole in the wall
Waiting **** curled up in a ball

The sly Tom took a one eyed nap
The wise mouse avoided the trap
Soon the chubby cat fell asleep
Sneaky mouse gazed out for a peep

The rodent smelled the cheese on the floor
It was right by the kitchen door
The mouse dared come out one step
Nose sniffing the air, full of pep

Stepping lightly two, three, four
He readied himself to run for more
The mouse dashed, fast as he could go
The plump cat looked around, didn't know

The mouse got ahold of the crumb
Cat snoring again, what a ***
He tip toed around the big cat
And made it back home just like that
harriot the hedgehog she just love to stroll
always very friendly such a lovely soul
wore a spotted dress and bonnet to
she had lots of spikes and had eyes of blue.

she would stroll for miles has a happy as can be
roam around the country side roaming wild and free
oneday while out walking she heard a little cry
it was very close somewhere near by.

she got a little closer there beneath a tree
she saw a little mouse very sad was he
mouse he had got stuck climbing down a hole
now the mouse was trapped poor little soul.

the hedgehog started digging till the hole was wide
till she freed the mouse who was trapped inside
mouse he was so happy he was free once more
free to roam around again like he did before.

hedgehog she was happy. and pleased with her deed
mouse had found a friend who became his friend in need.

— The End —