Quiet as a Mouse
In the midst of winter, that solemn spell Lives a creature who squeaks but will not tell Why he scavenges for food all night long While the children inside sing merry songs Desperate for cheese, a nibble of bread To be like humans who are so well fed They laugh by the fire and drink sweet wine Feasting with the spirit of Christmas time The odor of pot-roast drifts through the walls Out comes the mouse since deliciousness calls But he is too tiny to reach their fare If only those people would think to share The mouse scurries swiftly but then he stops Lying on the ground, he spots a gumdrop Its sweetness enchants his famished taste buds With flavor that pops like airy soap suds But his grumbling stomach knows too well That a snippet of candy cannot quell Long endured hunger, that distasteful sense Which this simple mouse deems a grave offense He moves to the tree with presents beneath Each one a treasure adorned like a wreath From here the mouse eyes a strange looking thing A device with a meal fit for a king But why would they leave a treat on the floor Right there in plain sight, so close to the door? He ponders a moment and then concludes Why this is my present ? a piece of food! He joyously runs to consume his snack But when he bites in a copper bar snaps No one around hears his fragile neck crack As the little mouse learns some gifts are traps
Joanna Friedman
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Copyright © 2007 by Joanna Friedman. All Rights Reserved.
May be used in unchanged form by avowed Animal Rightists if accompanied by this copyright message.
May be used in unchanged form by avowed Animal Rightists if accompanied by this copyright message.