Poem – The Mouseling Ball

Today’s poem is just a wee bit of fun I had writing one Sunday night. I think it’s mostly inspired by the fact that COVID has made it impossible to do any sort of group dances for over 8 months now, and that makes my dancing loving heart rather sad. So what better way to soothe it than with poems about dancing mice? 😀

~

When the cat’s away on holiday,

the mice will dance.

~

Some waltzing across thick Persian carpet in

pink ballet slippers like

baby rose buds blowing in the summer wind.

~

Others spin breathlessly

to the sound of wild ceilidh violins,

floorboards creaking softly beneath

tiny fairy rings and Gay Gordons

circling to and fro.

~

Some are even bold enough

to clatter a rhythm across the

wide expanse of the polished dinner table,

with tap shoes that sound like the frantic

fingers of a poet flying across faded typewriter keys.

~

I hope you enjoyed that bit of writerly fun. 🙂 Do you enjoy dancing? If so, what type? I’d love to hear all about in the comments!