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 Constantine.
My hands and feet are full of mouselets
In my elbows reside Nan and Nell
My knees are getting overcrowded
There's a nesting shortage, I can tell;
'Cos sometimes Arthur's awfully angry
Then daft ideas get in his head
He bites through my electric cables
And makes my arms and legs go dead.
But, I haven't got much time for doctors
Dispensing pills and quaint advice
Conjuring up obscure diseases
When I know it's just my mice.
Irene C S ClarkHogg
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-degenerate-mouse-called-arthur/
