Puss

In the scorching sun,

Goes a mouse.

Who only knows one thing,

His destination is the house. 

He thinks of the prize,

‘Happiness is coming.’

He knows only that,

Oh! How buzzing.

But in the shadows,

Stands the enemy,

To ruin his plan,

Denying to flee. 

The mouse, though,

Enjoys his ride,

Unaware that he,

Was being spied.

Suddenly in a jiffy,

He saw the claws.

What a catch it was,

Deserved applause. 

And just with that,

Gone was the mouse,

Safe it was,

Talking about the house.

For the catcher was the pussy,

Of the targeted house,

His proud mamma,

Was all wow’s.