Irene C S ClarkHogg
Comments about Irene C S ClarkHogg
A Degenerate Mouse Called Arthur
I have a little mouse called Arthur
Who gnaws away inside my bones
He is armed with sharp incisors
And metal claws on all his toes.
Today was warm, so Arthur rested
Silly me, I thought he slept
Then, just as I felt complacent
From his hidey-hole he crept.
He's gone to stir up his relations
They're scattered all about my frame
Every year his clan increases
I know them, every-one, by name.
Arthur lives high in my neckbone
He scrambles up and down my spine
Neville nests in my right shoulder
On the other perches...
He speaks of traveling in far distant lands
Of cities fair, adjacent to the sea;
Exotic gifts purchased there. So, for me,
Fine silks and spices placed within my hands.
Too soon, companions share his latest plans.
From boredom with this life he’ll surely flee,
As cruel fate repeats my history;
Bereft, left only with our wedding bands.
Alone, to wait once more for his return,