THE EVICTION

By Peter Woodgate 

Whilst dozing by the telly and well into a dream

tranquillity was shattered by a piercing scream

it seems Jo’s mum, had telephoned, to say she’d seen a mouse

she wasn’t going to sleep a wink, what’s more, she’d sell the house.

When Jo regained composure, she said, “don’t worry Mum,

Pete will come right over, armed with torch and gun.

So, off I go to Tallow Gate to exorcise the beast

being told, it was quite big, two foot six, at least.?

When I get there Mum’s in the chair, her skirt up by the light,

“can you see it?” she remarks, not a pretty sight.

“It went into the hall,” she says, “as big as a bloody cat,

“Where’s it come from? Where’s it gone? Do you think it is a rat?”

And so I search, with torch in hand, each dark and awkward place,

and then inside the bathroom, I see a tiny face.

It’s poking out from behind the bin, I have him now, I think,

but out the little bleeder shoots, he’s quicker than a blink.

Down the hall and round the bend then into Mum’s bedroom,

I’ll never get him now, I’m sure, that’s what I assume.

But just in time, help arrives and Tony’s there on cue,

“Well, what’s the score? How big is it?” and “what is there to do?”

I’d hoped that Tony came prepared and ready for the crunch

but with gloves and tea-towel, I thought it more like lunch.

The tea-towel proved a masterstroke and we cornered him at last

pity that we wrecked the room and smashed a pane of glass.

We wrapped him in the tea-towel that scared and lonely mouse

and Tony let him free outside, evicted from “Big Momma’s” house.

So, in future, if you see, a rat or tiny mouse,

just call out catchers Pete and Tone to free them from your house.   

 

Copyright Peter Woodgate