Boldness.
A furry quiver of whiskery boldness first
sniffed then pawed the big world of grass
for tea tables attracted instinctive stirring
as scuffling beneath my feet ran tails, fast
yet sightless three tiny mice out on a spree
posed for pictures and nibbled my tea-cake.
It beggars belief how unerring those sweet
little mouths fed until feasted enough made
snuffling squeaks then silently fell into sleep.
Appearing from brush a stress-ridden mother
bravely ushering whisked each culprit between
pathway stones to safety\'s hole and I had begun
to doubt my eyes viewed this odd behaviour when
out for a moment popped one curious mousie again.