I’m not a *'timorous little beastie'

    Who runs away and hides,

But a plastic shelled and busy mouse

    Sitting by man’s side.

 

I do not need your bread and cheese

    To keep me fit and well

Or, as other mice, must hunt to find

    A home in which to dwell.

 

I’ve often heard it plainly said

    That a dog is man’s best friend.

Tthis can’t be true for surely I

    Get time my master spends.

 

A man and mouse so bound together

    Is beyond all comprehension,

For his cat or dog would be in heaven

    To get so much attention.

 

Copyright on all my poems

 

 

* To a Mouse by Robert Burns

 

Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim'rous beastie,

O, what a panic's in thy breastie!

 

 

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