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  Maria Guzvic

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 THAT   MOUSE

I heard a little rustle
I heard a little squeak
I held my breath quite tightly
I couldn't begin to speak
I closed my eyes and pretended
It wasn't what I thought
Fleeting image of a mouse trap
And the blighter would be caught
The nearest chair I mounted
I stood a quivering wreck
The pitter patter of tiny feet
And I screamed “what the heck”
The phone was over there
And the cats were fast asleep
I was in real trouble
And I was in it deep
That poor mouse saw my anxiety
The panic on my face
I think it enjoyed where I was ledged
Upon this upholstered place
He pulled a chunk of cheddar out
And nibbled it with glee
And just as I was about to faint
He reckoned it was time to flee
With a sashay of his tail
And a tap dance before he went
He escaped and unscathed
And I know what ‘ phobia' meant





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