The Mouse

I heard a mouse
Bitterly complaining
In a crack of moonlight
Aslant on the floor.

" Little I ask
And that little is not granted.
There are very few crumbs
In the world any more.

" The bread box is tin
And I cannot get in.

" The jam's in a jar
My teeth cannot mar.

" The cheese sits by itself
On the pantry shelf.

" All night I run
Searching and seeking,
All night I run
About on the floor.

" Moonlight is there
And a bare place for dancing,
But no little feast
Is spread any more. "
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.