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Harry, the mouse, didn’t
know what to do.
He was bored, he was
anxious and feeling quite blue.
He’d eaten all his cheese
and the cat was outside.
It was no fun to run and to
hide.
He stuck his whiskered face
out the tiny mouse hole.
His gaze wandered from
tables to a green kitchen bowl.
Then what should he spy but
a cage full of birds.
“Feathers!” He shouted this
one and only word.
Three birds sat sleeping on
a perch in a cage;
It was made of bamboo,
since that was the rage.
Harry snuck up on them and
he yanked on a bird’s orange tail.
It let out a squawk and
started to wail.
The birds all woke up and
saw Harry, the mouse,
Running from their cage and
all ‘round the house.
They chirped and they
flapped their wings really hard
And their feathers fell
out, flying into the yard.
“Feathers!” Harry shouted
and gathered them up
And carried them back to
his hole in a cup.
He lay on his bed and he
blew them high in the air,
And felt joyful and happy instead of in despair. |
