The Church Mouse Poem by Joe Hughes

(Possibly related to the Mouse in The Diary of the Harvest Mouse by John Betjeman?)

It's three o'clock, I'm kneeling,
It's quiet in God's house,
It's then I hear him scratching,
A single, lone church mouse.

He's swimming in the water font,
Beside the huge front door,
Then squeaks a tune near hymnals,
Stacked neatly, four-by-four.

Standing on the lectern,
Distant from his lair,
Confident - he stares at me,
I think he's deep in prayer.

Squeezing through the organ knobs,
Sitting on the keys,
Pulling at the hymn sheets.
The dust - it makes him sneeze.

Sitting upright on the altar,
He's cheeky I would say,
Was that AMEN I heard him squeak?
Just like the priest would pray.

Does he dream of Hell?
Where cats would hunt, would tease?
Or does he dream of Heaven?
In a paradise of cheese?

It's three fifteen, I'm leaving,
It's quiet in God's house,
He's disappeared, he's hiding,
That single, lone church mouse.