Barry Harmer
Cosmogony
Abstractedly the mice pursue
Their wry-nosed passions, interlace
With fervid shrieks of "me" and "you,"
Pause, for a swishy-tailed embrace.
They know that season when the cheese
Grows damp beneath each printed paw,
When every little he cries "Please,"
Though every tiny she pleads "More."
In that mad hour, sage mice do say,
All nature loves to see them woo;
The floors are spick, the cat's at play,
The grasses smile at one grown two.
Cruel traps (they reason) are but placed
To test their will to sacrifice;
Dog's in his heaven; Mouse is braced
To prove the dust and winnow lies,
Then if, one day, the dancing slows,
And there are neither cheese nor mice,
Surely the upper floors, Dog knows,
Will bless their rodent obsequies?
Page(s) 24
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