There’s a mouse in my house living a solitary life.
No little ones, no mother-in-law, no wife.
He comes and he goes exactly as he likes.
If my wife were to come across him, Yikes!

He lives behind the skirting board in a nest for one.
He has all he needs there and enjoys a life of fun.
He causes me no problems, nor I do him.
He waves to me on Saturdays as I go to the gym.

I’ve named him Barry after my dear old granddad
He too was very solitary character, quite the lad.
He had short grey hair just like the mouse.
But no whiskers or tail but he did have a spouse.

Like Burns’ mouse Barry too is a timorous beastie.
On crumbs and crisps and nuts he likes to feastie.
He won’t venture far, not beyond the fence-line.
He seems somewhat fearful of meeting a feline.

Seldom an encounter but we live our lives together.
But while I’m rather noisy he’s as quiet as a feather.
It’s rather enriching to have a seldom seen tenant.
I like to regard him as my first lieutenant.