“The Mouse’s House,” Friend, Aug. 1971, 29
The Mouse’s House
Don’t worry, wee mouse,
That I’ve found your house.
I wish you well,
And I’ll never tell
Where the wall has a crack
At the very back
Of the cupboard there,
Beneath the stair.
You’ve made a nest
Of the very best
Soft wool and fluff
And tufts from my muff.
Ten babies there
Lie helpless, bare,
Blind, and so small
I could hold them all
In one cupped hand.
But I understand:
One mustn’t touch
Babies much!
Don’t fret, wee mouse,
That I’ve found your house.
You’re safe in your hole.
I won’t tell a soul!
Illustrated by Phyllis Luch