There once was a white mouse called Poppit whose owners were going away
They called us and said could they drop it, for Christmas, two nights and one day.
I said that we’d have him with pleasure and find him a home in the shed
Such a cute little pet I would treasure with his cage and his wheel and his bed.
We moved all the pots for the flowers and cleared all the tools from the shelves
Then left, to be ready for Santa, his reindeer, his presents, his elves.
Next morning I ran down the garden to see if dear Poppit was fine.
I’d left all my parcels unopened for, of course, I had plenty of time.
I looked at the cage in the corner but couldn’t see Poppit inside
Perhaps he had gone somewhere warmer under his bedding, to hide?
But, alas, he had fled, we had lost him. There was just not one sign of a mouse
He’s escaped, you might think we had crossed him. We should have kept him in the house.
So the day that was Christmas we started to empty our old garden shed.
The contents on wheelbarrow carted, just hoping the mouse wasn’t dead.
And when, with the day nearly over and the junk on display on the grass-
When we’d given up hope for the rover – He was out in the open at last!
That holiday won’t be forgotten. The mouse was returned to his home
And a day that could have been rotten – inspiration for this Christmas poem.