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I saw a little mouse go by,
he stopped and looked me in the eye.
He did not know to stay or go,
so he stood still and eyed me so.
I held my breath not wanting to stir
scaring Gods' little crea-ture.

There are those who scream
at these tiny miracles
their fear of life is clearly
not curable.

He breathes sweet air, same as me
he even has to take a pee.
Mousy children round him scurry
here and there, in such a hurry.

So I pray for his release
cause in my house
I just can't keep
that squeaky, little mouse.


Kay Ekwall©1997


Index of Poems, Songs and Short Stories

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