Lover Of Fields Dressed In Corn the Harvest Mouse (Micromys Minutus) Poem by john (called jack) wren

Lover of fields, dressed in corn
Whose slender stems you adorn,
Gripping all with feet and tail
Your piercing teeth never fail
To crush corn as a millstone grinds
Leaving an empty shell behind.
Then, in a manner rather brusque
You discard the unwelcome husk
One poor harvest brings anxiety
Forcing thoughts to a varied variety
Of succulent black bramble berry
And those from discarded cherry.
Whose distinct flavours impart
To warm the cockles of the heart,

When instinct begs you to explode
And swing your tail in acrobatic mode
Blades of wheat are weaved and bound
Then drawn into a ball, perfectly round,
With an entrance door so discrete
For those whose stature, is petite.
So small a nest is rare to find
Outside the confines of the mind
Confusing, even the smartest thief,
So rare, a jewel of disbelief.