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Stopping by a Mouse Hole on a Snowy Evening, by Rascal Archibald

Whose den this is, I think I know
I caught his scent three yards ago
Heíll not suspect my sneak attack
Burrowed beneath his house of snow.

My mommy seems to think itís queer
To hunt when sunset is so near
She doesnít know Iím bout to catch
The tastiest mousey of the year.

Earth clods and leaves fly everywhere
Mom gives a call, and I despair
Heís nowhere to be seen! The rat!
Heís gone, his tunnel now laid bare.

Your hole is fragrant, dark and deep,
But mommy pulls me by the leash.
And I have kibble left to eat.
And squirrels to catch before I sleep.


I am obliged to note that this is an awesome poem. And every word of it is true!!

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