He motivates me like cake,
mused Miss Mouse,
as she nibbled and pondered
upon her latest beau.

She found him under the
kitchen table, sniffing around
between the dust bunnies
of old.

For it has been ages since
the big footed creatures
dropped crumbs here and so
there’s little left.

But the memory of cake
like a dream half flown
remains in the back-forty
of Miss Mouse’s brain.

I think I’ll come out tonight,
and try some Mr. Mouse cake,
and maybe, just maybe,
we’ll make crumbs of our own.

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