MouseA Poem by emipoemiBorn in a playground, the runt of the litter Of four little furballs to parents that fled When a gang of raccoons mauled and gobbled his brothers, He hid in the bushes from the cold and the bitter, Wanting and waiting for things to get better. And soon he was rescued, despite fearful mews, By a lover of felines with three of her own: A Tom with no tongue, and a Bob with no eye, And a Kit with a nose badly hit with a bruise- All bulky and hulking they called the runt Mouse. However, this lover of felines had not The time or the money to care for the four. She put up his picture, asked who would buy, And before the week ended, he warmly was bought, And brought to a far more serene neighbourhood. And daily by morning and through afternoon, He’s curled in a box, on a bag, on the sill, Catnapping except when in want of a meal, ’Til by night he’s alert for a roaming raccoon To one day have revenge for the harm that was done. -EDP © 2018 emipoemiReviews
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