Word of the Month update

Hi everyone,

For some reason the word for May — MOUSE — isn’t resonating with many of you. Through this morning we’ve had only five poems, counting mine, posted all month.

Interestingly, of the four other poets, Cory Corrado, Jeanne Poland, Bryn Strudwick, and Jane Yolen, three countries are represented, four if you count the time Jane spends in Scotland. Also, Susan Hutchens posted a mouse poem that I overlooked earlier.

Have I missed anyone? Sing out if you posted on a regular post rather than on Adult “W.O.M.” Poems because I might have missed you. Otherwise, let’s see more mouse-inspired poems, people! Squeak up!

8 comments on “Word of the Month update

  1. I am not an author, but occasionally like to play with your words. Since you haven’t had many for this month, I just compiled a quick mouse poem.Jackie Shifflet Bad Rat(rap)He means no harm when he enters your house. He’s looking for crumbs, this meek little mouse.Still, when discovered, he’s met with shrieks, followed up by a frantic search for leaks.Not all mice make people turn and run. Mickey’s place has countless coming for fun.

    • Hi Jackie,

      I just spotted you here and want to thank you for your contribution to the mouse fun. Bad Rat Rap trips right along. I bet you were speaking it as you were writing it. It has that kind of rhythm. Thanks again. I’m delighted you came.

  2. Mousey Day

    My daddy found them.
    He brought them up to the house:
    A nest of squeaky pink babies,
    Minus their mama mouse.

    Said he found ’em out in the yard.
    This teeny family, in its grassy nest,
    Cupped in Daddy’s hands, to show his babies;
    Our daddy was the best.

    Our mom was not impressed
    With rodents that’d chew & stink –
    But so CUTE! The size of my thumb
    And every bit as pink!

    Oh how they delighted
    Little brothers & 8-year-old me.
    I pictured them in tiny clothes,
    How precious they would be!

    Could we keep ’em, Daddy?
    Cuddle ’em & hold ’em just so?
    To five pink, warm, nice little mice
    Who could ever say no?

    Daddy could. And Mama too.
    Mice weren’t pets. Plus they smell.
    They had germs. They weren’t pets.
    They were just Daddy’s Show-&-Tell.

    We were sad. Daddy let ’em go.
    And of this story, that’s the rest.
    Much would happen, but on that mousey day,
    Our daddy was the best.

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