The Borrower Mouse Poem by Richard D Remler

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In an old box of cheese
There lives a very small mouse.
And a fine sort of mouse
He is too.
Deep in the cupboard,
Safe and secure from the cat,
Way out in Kalamazoo.

He's lived there for ages,
And ages, and ages.
He knows every splinter
And nail,
That makes the wood jagged,
And scratchy,
And ragged,
From his nose
All the way to his tail.

At midnight this mouse
Will explore the whole house,
Every room,
Every cupboard,
Each drawer.
He will take his sweet time,
No telling what he might find!
He has seen this much
And wants to see more.

On occassion he'll borrow
An odd thing or two,
Usually a something that
Seems extra new,
That has a bright shine,
Or has a very new smell,
Such as licorice,
A toothbrush,
Or a new silver bell.

His collection of thimbles
Is a treasure to see,
And one night he managed to
Find a whole box of tea.
He has marbles that line
The narrow walk to his door,
And his pencil collection
Is now up to seventy-four.

He keeps his Bucklewheat Hay
Safely out of the way
In the back of his drawer
In a jar by the door,
Near a round silver thing
That tick-tocks,
And then ticks
Right next to his
Supply of old Popsicle sticks.

He has buttons, and buttons,
And buttons galore,
And there are times when it seems
They are all
He lives for.
All the big round ones,
And small ones
And pearly ball ones,
The flat ones
And wide ones
And real
Bona fide ones.
They are a wonder,
A prize,
A gem,
And by jove,
A ruby,
And sapphire,
A real treasure trove.

His shelves are packed full
Of those fine
Borrowed string things,
All the wirey, fiery
Spirally spring things.
The things that wind up,
And the things that wind down,
And all of those odd things
That spin 'round and 'round.
He's kept very good track
Of his treasures so far,
All tucked safely behind his
Aged Layden Jar.

Oh, he'll return them one day
When the weather's just right,
When the moon has that fine
Autumn glow in the night.
When he's tired of buttons,
And bobbers and bows,
Or when his fingertip-toppers
Out-number his toes.
When his marbles have lost
That brand new marble shine,
Dimming the glow of
Their resplendent design.
When his horseshoes refuse
To horseshoe anymore.
That is when he will open
His borrower drawer.
When he needs extra room
For a new genuine fine,
A new sort of treasure
That captures his mind.
Yes, he will give them all back
When he is finally through
Borrowing what shimmers and shines
Way out in Kalamazoo.



Copyright © MMX Richard D. Remler