The mouse is alive; oh, yes, it's alive!
Now, what shall I ever do?
The fear that occurs, will I ever survive;
Could be that I'll learn something new.
It's not as frightening as I thought;
it's run by electric impulse.
Itís doing its work just as it ought,
and does not make me convulse.
It enables me to convey to my friend
The thoughts which I bring to my mind.
And, so, little mouse, it isnít the end,
Youíre useful for me to find.
Youíre helping me get to the right place,
So that I can now type this poem.
Although I really can't see his face,
Itís by his neat thoughts that I know him.
©11/18/2010 Carol Morfitt