There’s a feisty little fellow and his name is Max E Mouse
He’s the head of a large family in a public basement house
Their Underground abode is not a place to wine and dine
In Elephant and Castle on the southbound Northern Line
It’s dirty, dark and draughty causing permanent bronchitis
And Max could write a book about his chronic laryngitis
They’ve never seen the daylight, as they cannot climb the stair
They know there must be more to life than a dungeon in “la gare”
Their numbers are increasing with every passing week
And a head-count of the inmates reached a recent record peak
The punters on the platform can no longer have a smoke
So Max & Co are not exposed to fumes that make them choke
And a head-count of the inmates reached a recent record peak
They only have each other underneath the railway tracks
With millions of on-lookers as they poke around for snacks
Their food supply is scanty, based on intermittent charity
A crumb, a crisp, a morsel thrown with nonchalance and disparity
Their primitive ablutions is another sorry story
But what’s the odds, it won’t improve, the stench is mandatory
Commuters come, commuters go, they all enjoy an ogle
The colony has open house – it’s enough to make one boggle
Now God’s great beasts in zoos and circus charge a hefty fee
But Max excels in every show and even does it free.
However, Max, has other plans – he’s learnt it from his masters
The global soul is beckoning him to cleaner, greener pastures
He wants to relocate to some more natural habitat
Where his life takes on the format of a mouse and not a rat
Where stress and strain of city life’s no longer his scenario
And Max can play the country squire, the lord, the impresario
With super-rodent energy, he took a leap one morning
And landed in the basket of a lady who stood yawning
Quite unaware of little Max she went on with her journey
Her office was near Marble Arch where she worked for an attorney
Now little Max lay thinking of his life’s new evolution
While all around him he’s aware of a Cultural Revolution
Her basket was his haven and her apple was his brunch
Midday she took the basket off to Hyde Park for her lunch
Hardly had she got there, than she put the basket down
Next to her favourite park bench on a grassy piece of ground
With pounding heart, Max ventured out and fled away in exile
His nerves were frayed, his legs were weak, in fact extremely fragile
Before too long, the sun went in and big, black clouds appeared
Large drops of rain came splashing down, for Max it was most weird
Our little grey-haired squeaker had never had a proper shower
What started out as playful was a pest within an hour
His grey fur got so heavy as the water penetrated
And his feet sank through the grass below as if they had been weighted
His little body shivered and he knew he’d start to freeze
His throat went dry, his nose did run and he began to sneeze
Initial signs of homesickness and pangs of lamentation
Swept through his soul and made him wish he hadn’t left his station
He thought of his dear children who he’d left behind that morning
He’d let them down and run away without a single warning
He bitterly regretted now his hasty disappearance
And wished he’d stayed and stuck it out with stoic perseverance
Before too long the rain dried up and everything turned sunny
And Max cheered up – in retrospect he found it rather funny
Then life is what you make of it, the prospects can improve
You only need to change your chips – break out from your grey groove
All things were bright and beautiful that lovely April day
Max revelled in the fruits of life – his longed for breakaway
There were hoards of picnic leftovers and plenty of diversions
They compensated richly for the trivial aversions
So, whilst he contemplated how he’d love to find a friend
He met a little colleague who’d nearly met a bitter end
They called him one-armed Willy – cos he spent all day a-hopping
He’d hitched a lift on a dustcart on its way from Upper Wapping
Now Willy was a valiant chap, he filled Max’s heart with hopes
He promised to take care of him and show him all the ropes
The moral of this story is a complicated issue
While travelling on the Underground and you need to find a tissue
Be sure to shut your bag and hold it tight at every station
Thus, preventing gross resettlement of the local population
Or you may be instrumental in an unintended way
Of absconding with a family-man in the blatant light of day
And so it was that Max resolved to start his life anew
Confront the future like a man – and launch his own début
He may not meet his kinfolks in this earthly life again
But they’ll reunite in heaven in a celestial refrain
Where pint-sized mice and elephants are all completely equal
And everyone’s so joyful that they’re waiting for the sequel !
Photo: Pexels.com
Copyright: Rosemary McGuire