POTTY POETRY, PLEASE

Three Little Mice

Three little mice sat under a pot,

Arguing who should now go up top

And bring back some food—some nuts or some seed,

But which of the three could not be agreed.

"I am too young," said the last to be born,

"My experience nought, my chances forlorn.

I'm as likely as not to be eaten than eat.

Let us remain here and admit defeat."

The brother, though older by five or six weeks,

Gave things a good think before deigning to speak.

"Our bellies are empty," he said, "that's no lie,

And if we're not to starve, we must at least try."

The one in the middle said, "What of the cat?

He's crafty and nasty, the killer of Rat.

If Rat couldn't dodge him, then neither can we,

For Rat was far bigger than together we three."

"But Rat," said the brother, "to be rather frank,

Was, let us face it, as thick as two planks.

We are much smarter, I think you'll agree,

And not only smarter, but smarter times three."

The youngest demurred and pointed out that

The problem remained this cat, not the rat.

The cat was persistent, the cat, it was sly

And not a particularly nice way to die.

"But neither is starving," the middle replied,

"And time's running out― we have to decide.

The less that we eat, the weaker we get

And become far less able to deal with the threat."

With no volunteer to get the job done

The three mice moved off as though they were one.

One looked ahead and one side to side,

While the third one moved backward

to guard their behind.

Asleep in the shrubs, a feline shape stirred,

Thinking that he had just heard a bird.

With a growl in his throat and and a perfunctory lick,

He gave his long tail an ominous flick.

With stripes on his side and stripes on his back,

He set off to find some thing to attack.

Having recently eaten, he was somewhat replete

And didn't particularly want something to eat.

He was feeling quite frisky, in need of some play,

Of some entertainment on this sunny day.

He sat on the lawn and surveyed his domain

And looked for a creature that might entertain.

He jumped on the wall and onto the shed

(Which was covered with things that he had left dead).

He started to groom while keeping his eyes

Watchful for anything he could surprise.

And then to his left he spied a a strange creature

Crossing the lawn with many a feature

That didn't, to Cat, make that much sense,

So he watched it with interest as it skirted the fence.

It seemed, to the cat, to have too many heads,

And, thought the cat, as the thing reached the shed,

More legs than a spider, and that by some way,

But, unlike a spider, was furry and grey.

He looked over the edge of the roof of the shed

And stared at the thing with its multiple heads

And thought to himself, this still could be fun,

And wondered how quickly the thing there could run.

He leaned over the edge and got ready to leap,

As the thing began heading to that compost heap.

It wasn't too far, he could delicately drop

Right next to the creature and get it to stop.

As he dropped off the roof, the youngest mouse cried,

"There's a cat just above us! We all better hide!"

The three mice went three ways while the poor cat then tried

To go three ways at once before trying to glide

Gracefully down, just there on the lawn,

But a terrible truth was beginning to dawn.

Below and unnoticed by him 'til too late-

The rainwater barrel was laying in wait.

With a splash and a wail and a scratching of claws,

The cat was the victim of gravity's laws.

He came to the surface and scrabbled about

And hoisted his poor sodden body back out.

The mice, in the meantime, had found the cat's meat

And fed on the stuff 'til they all were replete.

Sated to bursting, they left the cat's bowl

And quickly crept off to their cosy mouse hole.

Back on the lawn, Cat shook himself hard

Before hiding himself in a bed full of chard.

No one must see him in this sorry state,

So the cat had no choice but to lie here and wait.

But as he lay drying, he thought of the mice,

And the thoughts he was having were not very nice.

He uncurled his toes and put out his claws

And imagined the taste of a mouse in his jaws.

© Tracey Meredith 2019

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