Farmyard Antics 13 Poem by Phil Soar

I strolled into a farmyard
And among the bales of hay
I found a little dormouse
Who had settled in to stay

He had a thousand neighbours
Who had also built their nest
To raise their many families
They liked the hay the best

And as the farmer used the hay
They moved themselves around
The neighbourhood began to shrink
And new ones had been found

And when I left the farmyard
The mice had left there too
When faced with a demolition
What else was there to do?