A mouse lived in a dingy cupboard,
Not the cupboard of Old Mother Hubbard,
But a horrid closet, non the less,
Which caused him unrelenting stress,
For it was just so dark in there,
And also it had no fresh air,
Thus these two things, had made him twitch,
Furthermore, he imagined that a nasty witch,
Was coming to find him, any day,
To take his mousy life away.

The silence was so very eerie,
Nothing here was very cheery,
But he felt he wasn't here alone,
And at the moment was very prone,
To think he could sense another being
Creeping around, but he wasn't seeing
Anything is this pitch black.
He thought maybe he would go and pack,
And leave this place, go somewhere new,
Anywhere would be better, than this venue.

When suddenly, he felt a bump,
What had hit him on his rump?
A squeak rang out, and two bodies collided,
And fur met fur, and then subsided,
Into a heap, and clung together,
Hearts beating fast, hell for leather,
'My name is Pru', the body said,
'What's yours? ', 'Oh, Me, I'm simply Fred'.
'Well I'm looking for a place to stay',
'Do you have a room here, that's OK? '

'Oh, Yes indeed, move in with me',
'I think that would suit me to a T'.
'You are so sweet', she sighing said,
'I really like you, Simply Fred'.

And so two mice, went hand in glove,
Together. Is this called 'Cupboard Love? '

© Ernestine Northover

Ernestine Northover

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cupboard-love/