My Poems

It,s no fun being a field mouse, when the weathers turning cold, to enter the house of dog you would have to be quite bold.
... Inviting, warm and cosy, a food dish by the door, every mouse's paradise, who could ask for more.
Creeping from behind the dryer, through a little hole, just to commit suicide, when he jumps in Katy's bowl.
Rosemary James
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