The two black mice

I remember two black mice, I returned home with from school one day.

They were cute and were furry and were no trouble at all.

Then there were five and then there were ten,

In a month or so that number had doubled again.

My sister adored them and my grandma abhorred them.

(She didn’t like the thought of a mouse).

Pretty soon they had overrun our small house.

We found them among the ironing,

Under the sofa and in the washing machine.

They chewed all the wires, we knew where they’d been.

One day they just vanished, They were wild I suppose.

Did they visit our neighbours? Well, no one quite knows.

 

© Sean P. Ransom.