I'm swinging from my appletree
and feel like a gorilla.
My arms are short but I can be
the image of Godzilla.

They kicked me out of my own house
for insubordination,
all I had done is place a mouse
near our weighing station.

She dropped the robe to get the number,
(reward for eating less) ,
when in her vision, still in slumber,
she saw it moving, yes.

I'd tied the thing by its short tail
securely to the scale.
Why is it that I never fail
to be a helpful male?

Needless to say, she jumped so high
that head and light collided,
but when she landed, my-oh-my,
the mouse had just decided

to chew the string that held him there
and make a quick escape,
his path crossed, sorry, as it were
near the descending shape.

A splashing scream was heard for miles,
bare bottom onto mouse,
which had been trapped on slippery tiles,
but left this horror house

stuck with his head inside the crack,
his sorry body draped, so flat
that, surely, life would not come back,
though what protection did the fat

of this loud-screaming human give?
He was still breathing, and his hearing
did function well, so would he live?
This hindsight really was endearing.

They both survived, mouse looking square,
the string was evidence per se,
my being booted was unfair.
While thinking, heard her voice call 'HEY',

she beckoned from inside the house
and looked bewildered, waving arms,
'There is another bloomin' mouse! '
I answered 'Mice don't do no harm,

they come inside to find some food,
I'll find a tougher, longer string...'
it changed her back to her old mood.
So in my appletree I swing.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cute-little-mouse/