print Print This

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 ([email protected])